Feeling Bi-Polo

I spend many days a week getting up early to beat the heat here in the south west desert to get my ride on before I have to punch the clock and spend the rest of the day talking about bikes instead of riding them.
 Wednesday is the exception to this rule. For most of us this day brings thoughts of "I'm halfway through the week, come on hump day." But for myself, I awake after the sun has risen with two thoughts on my mind...Am I late for work? and Come on Bike Polo!
 During the next eight hours, I remind all whom I come across that today is Polo Day, you should come play!!!
 I have been told we do things a little differently here in Tucson. We play on grass, at night, on a dimly lit field and it has been going on this way at least once a week for over a decade. We don’t know any better or worse, this is just the way it is.
 Many have asked the question “What is it about Polo that you sacrifice your 'training’ for and run the risk of injury?" I usually start to awnser with laughter and try to explain, but my point never really seems to take hold. The reality of the matter is that, the hardest/most fun I ever have riding my bike is probably during Polo. High intensity, shirt soaking, 30 second sprints that lasts for about two hours on an eighty yardish field. So with all of this fun riding bikes and not “training” on Wednesdays, I decided to track my efforts during a few games. Why the hell do I even care?  I must say I am still surprised by the results. I have logged as many as 16 miles with an average H/R of 150bpm and that is with mid-game snack breaks.
 So the question may be... is this the best training ever? The awnser from this guy would be... who cares! If you get some buds together and start swinging some mallets around, purposely bumping each other out of the way of the ball and throwing yourself to the ground in the attempt to score one for the team, your thoughts will only be on how many slices of pizza to order and which beer has the highest abv. to compliment your recovery.

Pedal There,
 Dejay Birtch