Scott
My Scott CR1.
I bought you after I'd finished 2 Ironmans and thought I deserved a nice bike. I'd trained hard, done respectably well and after 8+ years on a beefy, aluminum Schwinn with stickers covering the dents, I traded up for something shiny and sleek, so light I felt shamed to put my heavy body on top of it.
But you moved like a dream beneath me and together we zipped all over the bay area, to Tahoe, to the Death Ride, along the coast, and to the occasional triathlon. I felt faster, sleeker with you; invincible on the downhills, a featherweight on the ups. You were my most favorite shiny new toy. And then trail running intervened.
Fast forward past years of trails later and a knee surgery and I'm back to coax out that relationship once again, slowly reacquainting myself - you and me. I'm sorry I neglected you.
I want to find the balance to do an 80 mile ride again, to hit big watts, to push a pace until I want to die. I want to keep up with my biking friends again. Remember those times? I forgot how much fun we had together.
Please take me back, Scott.
I bought you after I'd finished 2 Ironmans and thought I deserved a nice bike. I'd trained hard, done respectably well and after 8+ years on a beefy, aluminum Schwinn with stickers covering the dents, I traded up for something shiny and sleek, so light I felt shamed to put my heavy body on top of it.
But you moved like a dream beneath me and together we zipped all over the bay area, to Tahoe, to the Death Ride, along the coast, and to the occasional triathlon. I felt faster, sleeker with you; invincible on the downhills, a featherweight on the ups. You were my most favorite shiny new toy. And then trail running intervened.
Fast forward past years of trails later and a knee surgery and I'm back to coax out that relationship once again, slowly reacquainting myself - you and me. I'm sorry I neglected you.
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| Hwy 1 into Stinson Beach |
Please take me back, Scott.
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