Waves? I Didn't See Any Waves

I'm a witness. There was nothing out there. Nothing. Flat. Zero. Nilch.

Oh well, I thought. Guess I'll have to get back on my bike. Today I hit the hills. I don't like hills. I've never liked hills. I'm a sprinter. I go fast on flat ground. I go backwards when the road starts to go vertical. Okay, that's an exaggeration. I can climb. I don't like to climb. Once I stopped racing, I stopped climbing. There's no need to punish yourself unnecessarily, right? Today I went back into the hills, dragging myself up this hill and that one. Funny thing, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. That's a good sign.

It's all about respect. When you paddle out at a localized break at which you're not a local, you know better than to fuck with the locals. You don't snake another guy's wave. You don't give the stink eye. You don't do anything that could get your ass kicked. Cycling is somewhat similar. I'll lay it all out. For years, I was the only woman in our circle who rode with the elite men. And I earned my spot. They didn't welcome me to the Sunday (i.e., fast/race pace) ride with open arms. Initially, they ignored me entirely. The ride would start and I'd be in the back, scared to death, knowing I'd be dropped at any moment. I spent many a Sunday riding home alone from God knows where. On rides like these, no one cares that you can't keep up. No one waits. You're on your own. I suffered. I cried. I cursed them and myself. But I kept going back for more. What's funny is I don't remember when I started to hang in, when they started talking to me and treating me as an equal. It took awhile. For years, I was the only woman who did this ride. I was the only one who could keep up. Eventually, others came and went. They tried and failed. I was still there. So when sista girl gave me the stink eye, it triggered something deep. She's part a new group meets at the location of that ride. They don't ride as fast as we did. And from what I could tell, they wait for each other. That's all well and good. That's the way it should be. But, you know what? That's still my house. If she can keep up, then I'll relinquish whatever skewed sense of ownership I'm claiming. I never dissed any woman who showed up at the ride. I was always glad to see that others were willing to try. Don't diss me when I make an appearance. I was simply passing through. If she'd ignored me, I wouldn't even be talking about any of this. I'd be complaining about the lack of swell and spending my time in the pool. It comes down to respect.

If it's not raining, I'm going to handle this on Sunday.