This is how you find yourself at 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night:

On the Burke-Gilman, 16 miles from home, in a downpour. With the headlight's beam diminutive and the night opaque, you pedal cautiously, and all too awkwardly, toward home. You know you're going to get there, that the cold in your fingers and feet and the grime-spray accumulating on your back and chin are temporary; you will get home because there is no other choice. This is how you find yourself, unexpectedly, a medium hardcore biker.

This is the first 40-mile ride of two in two days, the third week of training, the second weekend of back-to-back rides. Riding in the rain at 9:30 p.m. on Saturday night is comical; only you would be here like this. Only you would have started a 40-mile ride at 6:00 p.m.; you, willing duo.