Miles of pedaling across some of the most beautiful places on earth and living out of the contents of the bags strapped to a carbon frame attached with a medley of parts to two wheels?
Or spending a summer wondering how it would have been?
I hate (or maybe I fear) "wondering how it would have been." My bank account hates that I hate that even more. Yet my thoughts rarely wander from the idea of racing the Big 3 this year.
The easy part is the long miles, the weather, the sleep deprivation, the hunger, the thirst, the physical pain.
All these vanish with each new sunrise I experience either in self-powered motion or from a sleeping bag inches away from my bike.
The hard part is this other existence I dub "life." The one where I go through the motions for 10+ hours a day. Yeah, you know...that one that is still there when I have to unpack those bags I got to live out of for awhile and comb my hair and put on a monkey suit and smile.
All for the dollar.