Monday, August 26

Feet up, bros down

Last week, something was brought to my attention that was quite relevant to my current situation.  Someone else who had recently completed the Breck Epic wanted to know how they should prepare for their next upcoming endurance race.  Remember, the Breck Epic is an event so hard that The Angry Singlespeeder had lost control of his bodily functions after a very tough Stage Four.

So the racer in question went to the fountain of knowledge that is Lynda Wallenfels.

"I completed the Breck Epic this past Friday August 16 and am now home and recovering and would like to maintain my fitness level to do a 60km single day race Sept 21...  What do you think?"

"You need more recovery now than you expect to capitalize on all that fitness built at BE and be in peak form for Sept 21. You are carrying a season full of fatigue here not only BE. Recovery from races takes longer in the fall than it did in the spring for all athletes and Breck Epic was a big one."

Being that I've now raced three stage races in the past three months, one can assume that I am carrying a lot of fatigue.  With the Shenandoah Mountain 100 on the not so far horizon, I was concerned.

I got the following sage advice from Lynda (for free, BTW):
"Just kick your feet up and rest until then and you'll be fine."

"Stick with the stuff your body has adapted to."

My body has adapted to being mistreated inside and out, so I guess I should just continue the mistreatment.  Kicking up my feet?  How about a trip to the zoo with the family instead?

The zoo just got me more fired up... and made me miss Peter.

How can I think straight when I got the SM100 on the brain.  The Pie sees pretty birds...

I see potential flabongos.

From the zoo, The Pie dropped me off at the velodrome so I could catch the last night of US Tarck Bike Cycling Championship racing at the Velodrome.  I did not know what to expect... I was hoping for a sweet skid competition...

but unfortunately, they just rode around in circles.  Sometimes they were chasing a food delivery guy on a scooter like greyhounds chasing a stuffed rabbit, other times they were playing a queer version of tag.

photo cred: Weldon Weaver
Faster Mustache was on the scene to make sure the action was legit and that all the tarck cyclists met the USUC regulations and requirements.

photo cred: Weldon Weaver
Amazeballs.  Well, the only thing that really made the race exciting was hearing a 150PSI tubular tire let go from twenty yards away.   Otherwise, it was just another reason to stand around and drink beer.

And BTW, what are these?:

photo cred: Weldon Weaver
Due to their proximity to certain torsos, I woulda thought they were legs, but upon inspecting mine own meat sticks and making a direct comparison, these have nothing in common with those.

Home late, early wake up, trip to the mountains Sunday. Hardly "kicking my legs up," but whatever.

Farlow Gap, and not much else, with Bill Nye, The Ramptons, and Colin "Not a Roadie" Rohde.  Probably the last time I'll ever hit Farlow (willingly).  Although the upper section is all the gnar that makes it worth the long climb up there, so much of the trail down lower has been blown out by rain.  Add in the multiple get-offs for stream crossings, all the hike-a-bike on this "mostly down" trail, and the time suck of doing it all...

I'd rather be somewhere else.  Although, this only happens on Farlow*:

Something like no miles ridden, some chunder-gnar slain, and then beers at the Pisgah Tavern before the long drive home.

So just like kicking my feet up, and then down, and then up, and then down... just attached to pedals some of the time.

*For the record, Kurt went back and cleaned this precipitous drop on his second attempt.  It just didn't look as cool.

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