I live just north of Houston. It's flat. Really flat. I go searching for big overpasses to pretend they're hills. I found a big one over a 4 sets of railroad tracks. But as much as I like to pretend, they're not hills.
Yesterday I went on a organized group ride, The Tri-County Hill Hopper in Round Top Texas, about 100 miles west where there are actually hills. Not the 1000 feet of elevation kind, just the 100 feet up 100 feet down with no flat anywhere kind. A sort of roller coaster ride for bikes. I loved them. Absolutely loved them. When I'm riding around home all I have to fight with is the relentless push of air and friction, doesn't change much, it's pretty boring. But on hills I have gravity. I grind up, mashing with one leg yanking with the other over and over until I reach the point where gravity makes the dramatic change from being my enemy to being my friend. I feel my legs strain and pull and dream of being stronger. If I only had these hills to ride every weekend I could be a monster. Well, I would smile bigger anyway.
The ride was great, I was going to do a 45 mile loop but a co-worker of my wife wanted to do the 72 mile loop so I agreed. A few wrong turns later and my longest day ever now stands at 82 miles, and many many hours. Embarassing amounts of hours.
So sitting here with pain in my legs the next day I have to say that I LOVE HILLS! I didn't think I would, but me, my fixie, and 42:16 conquered all.
Just wanted to share.