Monday, July 15

Back but... ooof.

I quit races.  I don't generally quit bike rides.

I reached out to Todd for a weekend mountain ride... hoping he wouldn't think about the fact that I'm damaged goods.  A liability.  A ride boner killer.

He accepted anyhoo. 

So we went up to Wilson Creek and unexpectedly happened to drive into the finish of a garvel running race.  Who does that?  Anyways, over to Derek's place... someone I've met without a bike helmet before but never rode with ever.  Small world.

All I wanted was a good ride that didn't involve wrecking or making my injury worse.

Shit in one hand.  Wish in the other.

I'm a fun gui...


Anyways, Yancey Ridge (proper) followed by Wilson Ridge (semi) and a sweaty day in the woods... coincidentally in the same area where the Wilson's Revenge garvel bike race was  supposed to happen on this very day.

Todd and Derek trying to finish a chain saw job on a gigantic tree, me supplying pessimism and warnings of storms in the distance.

We saw two older e-bike riders coming down from the ridge coming at us, and it was an interesting conversation with Todd about e-bikes and woods and being old. 

Personally, I get it... a little... but I hope I die before I need this in my life.

Lower Yancey was a most humbling experience.  In the trenches of the lower portions, I ended up falling left and right, left hurting much more obvs.  Possible regrets, but I'm in the mountains on a bike, so whatever.

Anyhoo, lower Yancey handed me mine own ass royally.  Jeebus.  What a first ride back on the mountain bike and all.  I did lose it a couple times, and yeth, I fell on my left side.  Doh.  That hurt.

But we still extended the ride out further, despite the sound of thunder in the distance and lack of water in our bottles... Derek is smart enough to call it a day and head back to his casa.  Up and over to Wilson Ridge and then down.  Finish in time to get back to Derek's for a beer/creek soak.  Mebbe my favorite part about mountain riding... the after riding part.

Not entirely, but mebbe a little.

After the ride... I'm still trying to shed a little weight before Breck Epic.  Mebbe I shorted myself a few calories. 

Why would it matter?

Wake up Sunday with the dogs.  Keep them quiet for the family's sake.  Figured I'd get out for an easy 1-1.5 hours later in the day.  See a text from Jerry...

I can't remember the last time I've ridden with Jerry.  Seriously.  So many missed connections...

But then again, his "aggressive" pace on Charlotte trails hands me my ass.  His "medium" pace keeps me on my toes.  He rides so much locally and knows all the lines that I end up losing a second on this corner, three seconds on that descent... it all adds up to me busting my ass to keep up... when I'm in shape... when I'm not afraid to take risks.

So although I ate minimally after the ride on Saturday and had a dismal breakfast experience Sunday morning not expecting much performance outta my body parts, I agreed to join in.


I about died. 

We were gonna do fourteen miles hard, six easy.  The fourteen killed me.  Thanks to having a heart rate displayed where I can see it... I was like, "this is hard."

I only made it a couple miles into the second "easy" loop before I realized that I was toast.  Not enough calories in, too much effort out.  I bailed.  I felt bad, emotionally and physically.  Had it been some kinda race, I woulda endured or something.  Mebbe.  Instead, I quit, went to my mom's place, took care of her needs, headed home, and ate food stuffs. 

That was a hard weekend. 

Four weeks to go before Breck Epic.  You know, that race where you have to keep riding for six days and stuff.

1 comment:

Mike said...

I'll be out at Breck struggling much more than you I promise.