First, a quick guide to the two title idioms for the non-native English speakers:

Dragging ass means to move slowly, typically because of low energy levels. Hauling ass is essentially the exact opposite, to move fast.

What a drag

I woke up what I can only describe as rough this morning. Felt like when you wake up during your deepest sleep, except then the feeling never went away. Just felt hollow. I can hear some of you saying sarcastically to yourselves “Gee, I wonder why“. Yes, I know. I haven‘t given myself enough time to recover. A smarter person would probably have planned no more than three consecutive biking days before a rest day. I am not that smarter person though. I probably overestimated my abilities (perhaps another trait learned from my brother haha). Anyway, having thrown a subtle dig Toby‘s way, I can move on.

Given that I was feeling so low-energy, I figured I‘d try to do what‘s called “active recovery“, where you still exercise, but you keep your heart rate and effort low. And I‘d try to focus on and enjoy the landscapes a bit more. The latter worked, while the former was a bit more challenging, considering the last 60km of the ride averaged probably 2% uphill.

Anyway, it started off with a little taste of wine country:

…and a little bit of agricultural land:

Pretty nice. Then it got nicer. For something like 30-35km, I was on the Maare-Mosel bike way, which largely looked like this:

It was great. And all the while, slowly gaining elevation. It was actually kind of sad to have shitty legs today, because I love pushing myself while going uphill. Today would have been a great day to just gun it and see how things went. Oh well.

This long section of bike path also had a few tunnels, which I love. I don‘t know why, but I do. I like biking through tunnels.

At some point during the tunnel/forest bike path, the fog in my head cleared, and I could enjoy the ride a bit more. Legs were still garbage, but hey, c‘est la vie.

Eventually, the forest would clear, giving me some more expansive views:

This provoked a fairly strange sensation. The landscape itself – hilly, with a mix of ag land and forest, maybe some vineyards – was not significantly different than Saarland, which I rode through yesterday. But I felt higher, and the view felt somehow more expansive.  My poor brain trying to give me some reward for the hours spent slowly working my way uphill I suppose, haha.

Anyway, I made to the hotel, albeit after nearly five hours of active recovery on the bike. I was toast. Cooked. Done. But my day was not yet over, because my destination was the Nürburgring, where I had a treat waiting for me :)

Holy Jesus Mary and Joseph

The Nürburgring, for those of you who don‘t know it, is a Mecca for car and car racing enthusiasts. It‘s a famous Formula 1 circuit, a little under 21km long, in the middle of the forest in western Germany. And for the price some American hospitals charge for ibuprofen (tragically expensive, is my point), you can get a driver to take you around the circuit in a car built exactly for that purpose. So, because I hadn‘t spent enough money on the trip already, I decided to splurge. Though I wouldn‘t consider it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, it was a rare set of circumstances which put me here with both time and money and no other obligations. So why not have a little stupid-crazy kind of fun, eh?!

So, this was my steed:

Now, I was thinking it might have been an experience something along the lines of this:

…and it wasn‘t sooo far off. I mean, I definitely both soiled myself and cried, though the driving was much tamer. Kidding. Or am I?

The driving was same-same-but-different, if you know what I mean. Holy smokes. I think the thing that unsettled me the most is that the car was always bouncing around; I honestly how the thing didn‘t lose traction when it seemed the tires must have been unweighted. The tires themselves were squealing constantly, and the driver was taking the best lines (what do I know, though), which meant we were basically on the red & white striped inner and outer curbs both on entry and exit. The curbs were banked (only the curbs, not the turns themselves), and there were definitely a few times I thought we were gonna hit them and just go flying, as likely evidenced by my language in those sections. We didn‘t though. Obviously. This would be a much different post in that case.

Anyway, fun times, and for those 8 minutes, I didn‘t think once about how fatigued I am both mentally and physically. Added bonus!

The bike ride

Oooh and it turns out I have video of my experience! I‘m the one wearing a garbage bag with some neon on it :)