Trust Issues.
The long ride put some things in perspective which had been rattling around my head.
I don't trust myself at speed at the moment. I realized this during a moderately fast descent. I touched my brakes in the sweeping turn, which is something I never do. I was sitting up high, instead of trying to get lower and faster. My eyes were constantly looking for dangers at all sides instead of looking where I intended to be. Every small crack was a potential season-ended. Every bit of gravel a broken collar bone. Every shiny spot was the place where I made my wife a widow. I never used to have thoughts like this on this particular descent, but right now the combination of too few miles this spring and last season's fall have really messed with my head.
The added weight has really killed my ability to climb. I have no faith that I can make it up Potter ahead of even the slowest of the lower categories. I used to believe I could knock off the weight with a little discipline, but I'm not so sure anymore. What's more, I'm not sure the discipline would be there if I chose to employ it.
I'm fairly sure my ability to dig deep and hang on has been supplanted by my overflowing Suitcase of Quit™. I've become quite adept at finding multiple reasons to give up in any given situation, but really it all boils down to lack of belief that holding on will lead to anything positive. It's different when you are riding with some sort of form or at least have a glimmer of a result that allows you to suspend disbelief. I have neither. All I have are piles of numbers that tell me I suck and real-world reflections of my current potential. I just don't want to hurt for no reason. For fuck's sake, I could save the money and just take a nap.
I don't trust other riders. I used to, but I'm finding it harder these days. Part of it may be disc brakes slowing so much more efficiently than rim brakes (especially on carbon rims). Guys with disc brakes slow later in the turn, which suckers you into believing they're at the velocity they want to be at when they hit the apex of the turn, so you stay on the wheel right up to the point where they grab two fistfuls and tires start kissing. As I get older, my reflexes have slowed, so that gap closes even faster. A lot of newer racers don't stop to consider what their braking habits are doing to those behind them, or worse, just don't care. I've seen it in crits, on group rides, and even at the Dome. I brushed off the close calls as part of the game, until I hit the deck. Now I'm gun-shy, and that casual disregard for my own safety is going to take a long time to rebuild- if it ever comes back. That tension burns a lot of energy, and I don't have any extra to spare these days.
The Spring Stage Race is coming up. I honestly haven't decided if I'm going to line up for it. Even if it wasn't occurring the first couple days after my wife comes home, I still wouldn't know. Usually this is one of my favorite races of the year, but I'm just not in any shape to be able to hang in there. Forget about being competitive.
Saturday's two stages, the Bodenburg road race and a crit at a Valley racetrack, are more interesting to me than the TT or the hill climb. They're completely or at least mostly flat, which is good. Bodenburg is a course that I enjoy, even if I've never really done well there for various reasons. The crit is less compelling, given the experience I've had on small racetracks where you can see the whole course and the fact that tire-eating debris is a real possibility. Still, it's flat, so it's got that going for it. Maybe I'll line up for these two. Maybe just one. Maybe the whole stage race. Maybe I'll take a nap.
We'll see...
I don't trust myself at speed at the moment. I realized this during a moderately fast descent. I touched my brakes in the sweeping turn, which is something I never do. I was sitting up high, instead of trying to get lower and faster. My eyes were constantly looking for dangers at all sides instead of looking where I intended to be. Every small crack was a potential season-ended. Every bit of gravel a broken collar bone. Every shiny spot was the place where I made my wife a widow. I never used to have thoughts like this on this particular descent, but right now the combination of too few miles this spring and last season's fall have really messed with my head.
The added weight has really killed my ability to climb. I have no faith that I can make it up Potter ahead of even the slowest of the lower categories. I used to believe I could knock off the weight with a little discipline, but I'm not so sure anymore. What's more, I'm not sure the discipline would be there if I chose to employ it.
I'm fairly sure my ability to dig deep and hang on has been supplanted by my overflowing Suitcase of Quit™. I've become quite adept at finding multiple reasons to give up in any given situation, but really it all boils down to lack of belief that holding on will lead to anything positive. It's different when you are riding with some sort of form or at least have a glimmer of a result that allows you to suspend disbelief. I have neither. All I have are piles of numbers that tell me I suck and real-world reflections of my current potential. I just don't want to hurt for no reason. For fuck's sake, I could save the money and just take a nap.
I don't trust other riders. I used to, but I'm finding it harder these days. Part of it may be disc brakes slowing so much more efficiently than rim brakes (especially on carbon rims). Guys with disc brakes slow later in the turn, which suckers you into believing they're at the velocity they want to be at when they hit the apex of the turn, so you stay on the wheel right up to the point where they grab two fistfuls and tires start kissing. As I get older, my reflexes have slowed, so that gap closes even faster. A lot of newer racers don't stop to consider what their braking habits are doing to those behind them, or worse, just don't care. I've seen it in crits, on group rides, and even at the Dome. I brushed off the close calls as part of the game, until I hit the deck. Now I'm gun-shy, and that casual disregard for my own safety is going to take a long time to rebuild- if it ever comes back. That tension burns a lot of energy, and I don't have any extra to spare these days.
The Spring Stage Race is coming up. I honestly haven't decided if I'm going to line up for it. Even if it wasn't occurring the first couple days after my wife comes home, I still wouldn't know. Usually this is one of my favorite races of the year, but I'm just not in any shape to be able to hang in there. Forget about being competitive.
Saturday's two stages, the Bodenburg road race and a crit at a Valley racetrack, are more interesting to me than the TT or the hill climb. They're completely or at least mostly flat, which is good. Bodenburg is a course that I enjoy, even if I've never really done well there for various reasons. The crit is less compelling, given the experience I've had on small racetracks where you can see the whole course and the fact that tire-eating debris is a real possibility. Still, it's flat, so it's got that going for it. Maybe I'll line up for these two. Maybe just one. Maybe the whole stage race. Maybe I'll take a nap.
We'll see...
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