The ride over to the shart tarck confirms my feels. I have no snap in my legs, and I can't get my heart rate up to where I'd need it to be if I want to repeat (or improve on) last week's performance. I was only able to beat Dwayne because I could red line myself when I needed to on every lap and put distance between us.
But I'm going to "race" anyways, so there's that.
Do my lame warm up and head to the start.
Line up between a FNG in a JA King kit and another quinquagenarian, the guy from last week who was on a 26" wheeled Tomac, now on a cross bike with way-narrow tires. I mention to the JA King rider that he looks like a spoiler to me, tell the cross bike man he's really gonna toast folks on the gravel/paved bits. Wave to Mobley and Deese... and... go.
Holy crap. Although I get clipped in on the first pedal stroke this time, I'm off the back already at the top of the parking lot hairpin. Ahead of me, the spoiler from JA King, Mobley (and his first lap blocker teammate), Deese, and the cross bike into the woods ahead of me. I feel blown already.
And that's how the whole day went.
photo cred: James Tonyan
As soon as I get to where I need to make my bread, I've got nothing. I make it past Mobley's teammate, and that's it. I spend the rest of the day in no man's land. Too far behind anyone to make chase, and too far ahead of anyone else to give two shits. My terrible condition and fatigue (and the additional two PSI I put in my rear tire) make it difficult to clean the A-line climb outta the woods. At best, I was five for eight cleaning it, with two of the successes being pretty ugly.Hmmmm.
I'll get more into it in another post, but I've basically sealed my fate here. Without someone else doing something to change things, I just have to not suck any worse than I just did. Avoid the flu or death or injury and ride in sixteen more circles.
BTW: That was a fifth place finish, for those who aren't mathologists.
Posts
1 comment:
it has got to be a fluke!
Post a Comment