Le Tour...

Everyone knows I hate L@nce Armstrong. I liked him five years ago, really, I did. I rooted him on, tossed around the idea of buying is autobiography. If those yellow bracelets had been around I may have donned one.

But now there is no way in hell I would ever do that. Ok. Maybe if I was in hell. Because that's how it all works in hell - it's not supposed to be enjoyable.

My ride to the Birchwood wasn't hell at all. Anyone who bikes regularly (or in fair weather such as I) will go on and on about the comfort and sweetness of the Greenway Commuter Trail. My favorite part? As you ride under the avenues above, you see all the pigeons and sparrows lifted in air to fly up into their underpass nests. They leisurely ride alongside my bike a few times during my 15 minute express. It reminds me of the dolphins along the ferries in California. I like it because it makes me feel like I'm flying, when I look to my left and see their wings spread and floating just ahead of me.

Now, as I look back down to my laptop, after watching the finish of stage 5 of the Tour de France, I see any of these riders would have left those birds in their dust. Especially Oscar Freire who pumped up and unbelievable sprint to win the stage. It was unbelievable. From a front view, it seems like they are all in a line and it will be a hairline finish, but if looked at from the sky above, you see him break away from about 15 riders back, swerve to the right and work his way up (all while the other cyclists are sprinting too) to the finish line. There are helmets of every color bobbing from side to side, and you have this horrible gut fear that someone will crash right then and there because their pedals are practically kissing each other. Their bikes look like those timers ontop of the piano - left, right, left, right. It seems to defy the laws of physics.

What a rush. Or maybe that's my 3/4 empty coffee speaking?

(I don't know yet how Thomas Voekler, George Hincape (4th I now know), or Bobby Julich (20th) did, and I don't think I even spelled them right, but I'm rooting for them anyway. And Italy in the World Cup while we're talking about my rooting fors.) I like Oscar too. Maybe I'll put him on my radar now too...


Wishing you some held-breath, hands clasped in front of your chest, and wide-eyed wonder at some point soon.


Love love love,

K.