Taking dictation

This Saturday is the 7 Sisters running trail race, and oh young-human-of-unimportant-sex (why limit to just boy?), I'm quite excited that there's a number waiting for me and it sure seems like my body is capable of using it! And lucky me, that number is thirteen. Um, err, oh never mind.

I had been contemplating trying something new for the race, but very, very regular for my running: warming up on a bike. I haven't raced on my feet all that much, and I'm not really sure how best to warm up for that. On a bike, I would move my legs quickly, but in an easy gear, and the combo of low load with fast muscle activation seemed to do the trick. I don't, however, know how to "spin" on my feet.

As I ran with others these past few years, I realized one potential unpleasant aspect for others running with me, in addition to my personality, it that I arrive at the run start already warmed up. I may start too fast. One regular running friend, Brian, has even starting arriving earlier than our agreed time to run a mile warm up before that. Biking gets my body in gear!

Hmm, maybe, I thought, I should prep for the race the same way I do for most runs, on a bike. The 7 Sisters is a big event, with 500 starters and an active wait list ready to take any spot that is cancelled. The start area, just off busy Route 116, is jam packed, not ideal for a warm up at bike speeds. I considered bringing a pair of rollers to the start, but the pair I have aren't folding, and I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with dragging a trailer.

More contemplation, I guess, and in the mean time, I rode to Northampton today, for a little bit of this, and some of the other thing. As my errands wound down, and I nibbled a bagel, I was faced with a choice: I could take the direct route down State Street, which is significantly less harrowing since the town added a stop sign half way along it, or I could add a half mile and munch my bagel through a quieter neighborhood. Hmm, there have also been quite regular roadside free piles that way. Sold!

Not so regular, however, are the bike rollers left in the pretty-picked-over pile I saw today. Whoa! At first glance, with some deceptive decals that I thought were hinges, they even looked like folders! Ok, ok, they weren't, but they did sport beautiful machined drums and while I was contemplating and appreciating the exclamatory sign, their donor came out of the house.

Folding or not, 

I endorse that sentiment!

I like people who give away bike bits, and not just because I benefit. They're nice. The pile's curator opened with, "It's pretty much just the remaining dregs."

I simply pointed at the rollers and said, "Yes, maybe, but I can use those, this weekend!"

He'd made the jump to higher technology training devices, but said they'd served him well, and he even offered to put them back inside so I could be sure nobody took them before I could return. I thanked him for the offer, but my vintage Raleigh buddy, Ben, lives less than a mile away, more than half of than on rail trail, so I figured I could shoulder them to there and avoid inconveniencing the doner.

The rollers and I made it a half mile of contemplation, just to an open field across from my next errand, by which time I decided six nuts would be easy to unthread, easier than returning with a trailer and having to encumber Ben's household until then. Open fields are also great place to stash rollers until all errands are done. Yup, six nuts were easy, and I rode home with a set of rollers stashed in my pannier, and six nuts will be easy again on Saturday. Heck, the rollers are even already disassembled, ready to go. I appreciate when the universe dictates easy choices.

This took five minutes tops, 

and next time I won't even need to figure it out.