Pete Senia Memorial

A great end-of-season race in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park.

Dropped your intervals once you realized the sun wasn’t getting up at the same time you were? Weekends now looking good for sleeping late? A strange squeaking coming from the chain when you roll your bike in the living room just to see it moving?

But still got racing on the brain?

The sound of tires on tarmac, someone shifting gears (are they going faster. . . or slower – ha!), a bump on your thigh reminding you this is a contact sport, the end of that uphill and your lungs burning but the relief of soft-pedaling while you catch your breath and tuck in behind that bigger rider who looked funny on his bike at the start and now is ahead of you with no indication he’s getting tired. He creates a great draft, though. A water bottle smashed on the ground from bumps in the road, wind on your face, that motorcycle revving higher because, somehow, you’re out in front and leading the pack.

Sign up, get up early, race. One last kiss of the road with your tires before we’re crushed by winter.

See you there.