Another training ride yesterday. I felt tired when I started, and figured I would do 10, maybe 12 miles, just to say I had done something. I got to the 10 mile point, Wilmot Gateway Park in Woodinville, rolled on to the Red Hook Brewery (fortunately located across the river and not too easily accessible). Called my parents in Florida, as I usually do at that time of day, and when I got off the phone, I decided to go just a little further.
I ended up at Marymoor Park, at the north end of Lake Sammamish. That was at 19.8 miles, according to my cyclometer.
The Sammamish trail is much nicer than the Burke-Gilman, much smoother and less congested. The Burke-Gilman has just a few too many roots breaking through the pavement for me, riding as I am on a skeletal saddle and 100 psi tires: by the end of the ride, every one of them feels like a kick in the place one likes least to be kicked. There’s only so much the chamois codpiece in a pair of bike shorts can protect you from.
I found a couple of reasonably fast riders to use as rabbits and keep me at a good pace on the return trip, between 18 and 20 mph, so it went by pretty fast. I feel fine today, though my knees have grumbled every time I have climbed the stairs, and my Achilles tendons have a disturbing rubbing feeling that concerns me. My father broke both of his, about a year apart, at about the same age I am now, and in the throes of physical activity. Hmmm . . . . . it would a real drag to have that happen somewhere in the wilds of Woodinville or Redmond: worse still, on the way to Portland.