Sacking Up.
After wussing out on perfectly ride-worthy conditions (other than the gale-force winds and cold drizzle) and being shamed by a long-time friendly adversary, I knew I had to ride.
I sat staring out the window for a couple hours the next day until the roads dried somewhat and the temperatures inched up to their projected highs. Every degree counts. I over-dressed, but I wasn't planning on working all that hard. Here and there in shaded spots, ice lurked, waiting to bring me down. Screw that. I've been there, and have no desire to return.
I took a route counterclockwise from my usual course through the hillside. Although I gained some elevation, it was spread out over a longer distance. I wasn't going anywhere fast, nor did I want to. It was all about miles on the pavement while there still was pavement. Despite my best efforts to avoid any real work, I worked up a sweat. Overdressing probably had more to do with it than turning over the pedals. I wasn't particularly uncomfortable, so I ignored it.
With no particular goal in mind, I headed back exactly at the point where I decided my fun meter was pegged. No "keep going to the thing" or "just one more climb." When I was done, I was done. If this was to be the end of the season, I wanted to end it on a feel-good, positive note, not a bridge-too-far note that leaves me ground down for days.
It might have been the last ride of the season. There may be one or two left in the old girl. Weather has been fickle the last few years, so you never know.
Beats the trainer.
I sat staring out the window for a couple hours the next day until the roads dried somewhat and the temperatures inched up to their projected highs. Every degree counts. I over-dressed, but I wasn't planning on working all that hard. Here and there in shaded spots, ice lurked, waiting to bring me down. Screw that. I've been there, and have no desire to return.
I took a route counterclockwise from my usual course through the hillside. Although I gained some elevation, it was spread out over a longer distance. I wasn't going anywhere fast, nor did I want to. It was all about miles on the pavement while there still was pavement. Despite my best efforts to avoid any real work, I worked up a sweat. Overdressing probably had more to do with it than turning over the pedals. I wasn't particularly uncomfortable, so I ignored it.
With no particular goal in mind, I headed back exactly at the point where I decided my fun meter was pegged. No "keep going to the thing" or "just one more climb." When I was done, I was done. If this was to be the end of the season, I wanted to end it on a feel-good, positive note, not a bridge-too-far note that leaves me ground down for days.
It might have been the last ride of the season. There may be one or two left in the old girl. Weather has been fickle the last few years, so you never know.
Beats the trainer.
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