Shorts on November 10th.

I am sitting on the lavender shag that is my bedroom floor. To my left, my cellphone and the air purifier that quietly hums all night long. To my right - the subwoofer of my bedroom system with a glass of freshly poured shiraz sitting dutifully on top. I can still smell the faint aroma of musk that clings to my skin after a hot, steamy shower. It is just after 7 p.m.

Following one of those frustrating married moments...the kind where you realize your spouse is not on the same wavelength as you that moment...I said "fuck it" to my original plan of getting my workout in at 6:30 p.m. downstairs on the trainer. I asked Jeff if it still felt as warm as it did earlier, and he said, "warmer..."

I hurriedly threw on my Shebeast shorts (that's right, November 10th and I could wear shorts) and my Castelli jersey. I asked Jeff to throw on the lightset on Vajazzle and let me go. He voiced his concern of it being dark, and that I shouldn't go alone. Funny, the old and always scared Sam would have agreed. But I am no longer scared of being alone. In fact, at times, I literally crave it. I used to be terrified of being alone with my thoughts or my feelings. Tonight, all I wanted was to be alone with them. To caress them and remind them how important they are. To love them. So I kissed him lightly on the cheek and said, "If I am not back in an hour, come find me".

There is something entirely erotic and sensual about night riding. Pretty sure my racer and rec rider friends wouldn't admit to it - but hell, I'm Sam. I am pretty vocal...eye cock. It really turns me on to be out there. The dependency on all of my senses is what spurs me.

One stretch of road in particular is the highlight of my training loop. It is a 2 mile stretch of heavily wooded, winding road followed by a lengthily hill climb. I could taste the warmth in the air. It tasted wet like snow should be on the ground, but too warm for it to be winter. I could see the eerie glow of deer hiding in the ditches. Their eyes would catch my light and remind me I am not completely alone. I could hear the roar of distant car engines. No music on a night ride - I have to be completely focused to be safe. You never know what creature or vehicle will sneak up on you. My nose was completely bombarded with scent. The Wisconsin countryside provides a vast array of such smells. Inhaling brought forth memories of being a little girl and hiding from the curfew bell. It smelled like forest and nighttime...like trouble, adventure, and danger. I felt alive and on the prowl. That hill was my prey, and it was mine for the taking. I could feel the subtle vibrations of the uneven asphalt. Sweat was dripping down the sides of my face, crystallizing in a stream of salt. The collar of my jersey felt scratchy. My legs wanted me to stand up and pounce. I never deny my legs the pleasure...

I stood up, cranked as hard as I could, and felt my lungs ache and beg for reprieve. The moment I overcome a hill - be it on the road or a switchback up the mountain - it's like a climax. It is the culmination of every sense meeting with the desire and lust for accomplishment. It is ecstasy.

I may not be the fastest. I may not be the most technical or talented rider. But damn, I feel so aggressive. So passionate. So in love with what riding provides me. It burns calories, frustration, and anxiety.

So with that said...I fully suggest riding at night. Make sure you have a red tail light (especially if you are road riding) and a good helmet and bar light combo. I recommend MagicShines (dealextreme.com) but anything you like will fit the bill. You may not feel the joy as I describe it, but I guarantee you will feel excited and ready to attack. Rowr!