So after the San Lorenzo Trail Marathon, I went to a Drum Corps International concert. If you don't know what that is, it's essentially a league of professional marching bands, quite literally the best marching bands on the planet. To get an idea, check this out.
The DCI show was at Stanford Stadium, only about eight miles away. Maybe a 20-minute drive, or...nah, after a race, I don't need to bike there, I should just drive. But parking might be a problem, and they might charge for it, so should...oh, what the hell.
So I biked eight miles - each way. And it actually felt pretty good!
Since I had all day Sunday (I really like Saturday morning races since you still have most of your weekend afterwards), I decided to reconnect with an old friend and take Invictus for a ride. A flatter, shorter one, only 44 miles (but still hillier than an average day on Texas 4,000's Rockies Route; California hills don't mess around).
About two-thirds of the way into the ride, I started feeling hints of a bonk. I'd eaten quite a bit for breakfast and lunch, so that kind of surprised me. Luckily, there were basically no hills in the last section of the ride, so I managed to just hold it steady for the last hour or so, though at an unusually slow pace for me.
When I got home, I realized I'd locked myself out. My roommate was out of town for the weekend. I could call my landlord, but she doesn't live closeby and is, well, just pretty weird to deal with. I knew my balcony door was unlocked, so I American Ninja Warrior-ed my way up there (the bottom ledge is about three meters off the ground and maybe 6 cm wide). That after wearing myself out all weekend. Then I went inside, had a beer, and watched some Alfred Hitchcock. What an ending to the weekend.
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