Tuesday, July 10, 2007


For the last few days, I’ve been watching and thoroughly enjoying the Tour de France on television – especially the beauty of it all. The scenery, of course, has been perfectly lovely, from the historic streets of London, to the squeezed-in country roads of England, to the bucolic countryside in northern France. I really think I don’t care as much about the race as about the beautiful picture of hundreds of riders winding through a charming landscape. It’s an eye-catching travelogue with a fairly famous bike race thrown in. Almost as much as the scenery, I love just watching the riders in all their colorful uniforms. I can’t think of another sport where as many as ten different teams compete simultaneously, each wearing distinct, multicolored outfits. Strangely, their shirts and pants never seem the least bit soiled or wrinkled, but seem to always glow with crisp brightness as the riders roll past the cameras. It’s a true spectacle, this three week bicycle race – one that I’ve enjoyed for many years. Yes, it’s consumed a few of my hours these last few days, but it’s more than just an agreeable pastime. I actually find it motivating. Each day, after watching the riders race their hardest along the English and French roads, I’ve taken to my own bike and put in a few racing miles myself along the picturesque country roads near my house.

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