The Monarch Butterfly of Athletes

In the past, were it 69 degrees, it was too cold. At 86 it was far too hot. I've spent the past 10 weeks riding in non-stop and often ferocious winds, snow, and freezing cold. How a goal can change a man. I now own more cold weather gear than I ever knew existed.

Triathlete buddies called me the "wetsuit weenie" in Santa Cruz. They would happily swim the mile around the pier in their Speedos while I was wrapped in enough neoprene to strangle a walrus.

And at times I have opted to stay indoors on the trainer these past weeks. Of the roughly 2800 miles I've ridden, about 1100 were on the trainer given the depth of snow, speed of wind, or height of tall buildings I couldn't leap in a single bound.