Peer Pressure

It's that time of year. No, not administrative professionals' day, but RAWROD. Looking back on years past, I figured this year the ride just wasn't in the cards. I told myself that I need to be at the office to be available for work. It's slow and I need the hours. And there's the issue of who to ride with. I'm the special needs uncle in the family - the one who someone needs to keep an eye on at the river during a family reunion while every one else is fishing. And while the fish are biting. I'm that guy. But Sabrosa Jon wouldn't take no for an answer. He offered to leave later and to do all the driving. When that didn't work, he started enlisting help by sending over representatives to help resolve any doubts I might have about the ride. But I have long running doubts. The first year, I was at the same weight and a little less fit. I suffered miserably, mainly because I did it on a cyclocross bike. The second year, I was heavier and not fit, but chose the right bike. Not nearly as bad for most of it, but I ran into the back wall of the pain cave coming out of Horsethief. Last year (the third time) I had more fitness, but was heavier again. Dan had hit the back wall of that cave by lunch, and was deep-hole mining his own personal pain cave until his pick broke, forcing him into the truck at mile 85. Jon persisted and I find myself caving to peer pressure. Even if I find myself exploring a Mariana Trench of pain, the ride down and back is always worth it.