I don't know why the thought of contacting the cycling club was so intimidating. Aside from the fact that it was the same club that Tour de France winner Alberto Contador was once a member of. Madrid has two main biking clubs, and this one appealed not just because it was so close to home: it also produces people who do reasonably well in competition.
So I did it; I wrote the Real Velo Club Portillo, asking them if they would consider taking on a total newbie who wasn't just experienced, but also suffering from, as they say in Spanish, being someone of the feminine condition. A seemingly nice guy named Sergio wrote back saying no problem you're more than welcome... the other three ladies in the club would welcome the company.
Huh?
I know I nearly failed math in 9th Grade, but....three gals out of a core of how many guys?
Are they cyclists? Sympathetic moms? Girlfriends who got roped into taking part in Sunday hammerfests and never got their names out of the database?
Oh well. What doesn't kill you... is ultimately a funny story to tell over drinks.
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