I trace the lean lines of hardened calves,
lingering within the valleys of those rocky quads,
loosening the tension with gentle pressure against
each muscle bulwark of firing fuel..
After another 100k you’re salty sweet and taut.
I push knuckles deep into the tight pockets
of your lower back and listen for your groan,
prepare you for another ride.
My husband is a long distance cyclist who rides about 500 km each week for fun. He is extraordinarily fit. 🙂 (If I had to ride 500 km a week, I’d call it torture, but that’s just me).