The Rapha Festive 500 Challenge.

Normal people make like the bears and hibernate over Christmas break. Filled with Eggnog, Christmas cookies and all the wonderful treats that make people love Christmas, it is only logical to curl up next to a warm fire, flip on any of the half dozen Christmas movie marathons and melt into the evening.

However, this notion, when falling onto the ears folk who find thrill in riding around in circles and taking the long way home, is by no means fulfilling. Thus, Rapha has thrown down the proverbial gauntlet for the Festive 500 Challenge.

500km in between the 23rd and the 30th of December 2010.

Morning.

He is alone. The morning air is cool and thick with fog.

He is alone. His machine is hoisted upon his shoulder. The soles of his shoes softly click the stairs as he descends. He is alone and the air is cool.

He inspects the the road before him as he tucks his only possessions into the back pocket of his jersey.
One foot is clipped in.










As he gazes down the road, he pauses for a brief moment of introspection, as he is alone and the air is cool.

In a moment, he is off.



He exhales deeply as the air sweeps across his skin an he feels the muscles in his legs awaken to the morning.


He is alone.


But by no means lonely. He has not gone out to think but rather not to think.
His sanctuary rolls beneath his wheels and is felt on the skin of the pavement.

He is an artist. This is merely the sketch pad. Yet, he would not trade this paper and pencil for the grandeur of any painting.








As he returns, he will politely oblige those who inquire upon his morning ride. But they will never understand how it truly was for him.


For he was alone and the air was cool.

Freedom

Focus.

Ah spring...When a young cyclist's fancy turns towards a new and budding racing season. The sun turns its glorious face towards the earth, offering a beautiful rejuvenation to the young cyclist. Gone, it seems are the long hours of winter riding when the number of garments being worn can easily surpass the count of one's fingers and cold winter's air nips at one's skin.

No. Those days have past. And a glorious spring erupts!

...or so it would seem...

One thing the young cyclist forgets as he looks out at the motionless flag and quite street (which happens to be crying out his name in desperate hopes of a good day's ride)...That is this. AP Government. The bane of his existence. His task is to read some 40 page chapter on the economy or the bureaucracy and take notes for a quiz tomorrow. However, the statistical probability of this task being completed...ya, not so much. The situation goes as follows...

He sits down, knowing this isn't going to work. The blinds are closed so the outside world will not temp his mind to wander. He puts in his ipod (U2, supertramp, something along those lines). Opens up the Government book. Finds the chapter. Goes to the first page. The first sentence.

...And his mind wanders away...

Suddenly, he's in Cloudcroft, NM with Fabian Cancellara and George Hincapie and they are just riding along, about to stop for espresso.

Then he's back at the book and is halfway down the page with no idea what he just read about...

This effect goes on for the next couple of hours...then the cyclists win.

Procrastination.

Finding himself at an utter loss. He gives in...

After all, It is a perfectly rational excuse.

"I'm sorry, destiny was calling my name while I was trying to read the chapter...I had to answer..."

Thus, answering to the desperado cyclist within him, the young cyclist abandons all hope of ulterior learning...and begins to focus.

--Ristretto