I Suck At This Sport
Today I got a personal record on the Moose Run time trial course- by a whole second.
Wheee...
In preparation, I had ridden hard for most of the week until I didn't want to even look at a bike Friday. I was cooked. Then I shaved my legs and let my facial hair grow, to do my middle-aged, overweight, balding approximation of Fabian Cancellara. I brought out a new rear wheel and replaced the helmet that gives Sigourney Weaver nightmares with an aero road helmet.
I was ready for a sub-par effort, and had all of the excuses to back it up.
Then I showed up and they had replaced my beloved cracked and potholed road with fresh pavement and the weather was nice. Crap. I was going to have to try to do something.
I did everything wrong in terms of pacing. I caught other racers at the worst possible moments, and allowed them to determine how hard or easy I would go. I couldn't find a rhythm to save my life, and alternated blowing up and riding too easy for the majority of the course. It was a giant shit-show.
In the end, my best-ever time was stomped all over by people I used to beat regularly. Relatively speaking, I stunk up the place.
I'm not going to beat myself up about it too much, because the race doesn't matter. What does matter is I got a good workout after a long week of riding, simulating a stage race to a degree. I usually fade heavily as stage races progress, and putting this kind of effort in after that much riding is actually encouraging. At the very least, it's a step up from how poorly I did while on antibiotics.
I did get crushed by the dark Sith Lord, Bill Fleming, but teammate Craig Walker put in a really solid effort to ensure we kept the Evil Empire in check in our little corner of the result sheet.
Now I just have to lose 20 or so pounds in the next 2 weeks and I'll be ready for the real racing to start.
Wheee...
In preparation, I had ridden hard for most of the week until I didn't want to even look at a bike Friday. I was cooked. Then I shaved my legs and let my facial hair grow, to do my middle-aged, overweight, balding approximation of Fabian Cancellara. I brought out a new rear wheel and replaced the helmet that gives Sigourney Weaver nightmares with an aero road helmet.
I was ready for a sub-par effort, and had all of the excuses to back it up.
Then I showed up and they had replaced my beloved cracked and potholed road with fresh pavement and the weather was nice. Crap. I was going to have to try to do something.
I did everything wrong in terms of pacing. I caught other racers at the worst possible moments, and allowed them to determine how hard or easy I would go. I couldn't find a rhythm to save my life, and alternated blowing up and riding too easy for the majority of the course. It was a giant shit-show.
In the end, my best-ever time was stomped all over by people I used to beat regularly. Relatively speaking, I stunk up the place.
I'm not going to beat myself up about it too much, because the race doesn't matter. What does matter is I got a good workout after a long week of riding, simulating a stage race to a degree. I usually fade heavily as stage races progress, and putting this kind of effort in after that much riding is actually encouraging. At the very least, it's a step up from how poorly I did while on antibiotics.
I did get crushed by the dark Sith Lord, Bill Fleming, but teammate Craig Walker put in a really solid effort to ensure we kept the Evil Empire in check in our little corner of the result sheet.
Now I just have to lose 20 or so pounds in the next 2 weeks and I'll be ready for the real racing to start.
Comments
Post a Comment