This weekend was a good example of the balance of life.
I woke up late Saturday morning even though I intended to do an 80 mile solo ride starting at 7am to continue building my base mileage back up before November. It felt good to catch an hour extra sleep, but I had a plan and needed to stick to it. I was so late that the 8am crowd was long-gone by the time I was ready to roll out from the PWC at 9am. The decision was whether I should go the same route as the 8am group and try to catch them, or do my own thing wondering the backroads. I chose to wander the roads. I took off toward Marshalville on 127, turned South to do the 80+ mile route I figured would be challenging, but then I got to 224 and decided to actually try to catch the 8am group. I had really good legs and figured "what the hell", might as well push'em to the failing point. That group was traveling a bit slower than me, but they became a rabbit I needed to catch. They had headed straight out 224 to Montezuma and should be well on their way to Byromville before I would even see them.
Instead of carefully watching my heart-rate monitor that has enslaved me, I rode how I felt and turned the Ipod up a notch to drown-out the wheezing coming from my lungs and the fire burning in my legs.
After reaching Montezuma and turning SE, I was shocked to see the group only 1/2 mile up the road. It was 10am. They were traveling a LOT slower than I thought, but I had also put out the hardest effort I've been capable of since March. I rode with them for about 10 miles and we crept along. Funny how the legs will start hurting after a hard effort when you slow down to nearly a crawl, 12mph at the most with this group, but I knew the signs of what was happening and needed to continue pushing harder than 12mph before my legs shut down. On a few of the "gently rolling farmland" hills, the group was falling off ~ or to be honest, I wasn't slowing down ~ so I began easing the pace back up to continue my solo effort. I should have been more social and said good-day to the group, and it was very rude of me not to, but I just put my head down and rode on. I stopped only once in Unadilla to grab some water and a pop tart since I didn't bring any gels. Amazing the energy you get from junk food. I headed straight back in on 41 and the effort began showing when I reached Henderson, so I backed off the last 6 miles or so. I finished with a 20.7 mph average and was very happy with that. The legs are coming around quicker than expected.
Sunday was a bit different. I got up around 5am to get ready to go Auto-Cross race in Cecil, Ga. It was almost 2 hours of driving in the Miata, then a rush to go through tech/inspect, walk the course, and drive like I stole it for 3 runs. There were some of the fastest cars I've ever seen at this event, and they were sticking to the pavement like glue..........well, not all of them. I managed to do a BK imitation going through the timing lights backwards in the first session of 3 runs, but I put down a respectable time nonetheless. This course was giving the "expert drivers" a challenge, and I was having one helluva a time picking up my next reference points all day long. There were 2 slaloms and I was hitting the rev limiter in 3rd gear on the second slalom. This was a very fast course. I upped the tire pressures for the second session of 3 runs and it balanced the car better for the higher speeds. Still, I managed to do another BK imitation on the last run, which was going to be my fastest of the day I thought. There was no warning when the tires gave up grip on this course, so having fast hands didn't do much for me. And, everyone that was running fast were on Kumho Ecsta V710 tires. Everyone. Oh-well. I had a great time racing, but it was the trip back that made me nervous. There were GSP everywhere and a lot of county mounties in Tifton giving autographs to anyone qualified.
The leason for the weekend: Life is good..........
I woke up late Saturday morning even though I intended to do an 80 mile solo ride starting at 7am to continue building my base mileage back up before November. It felt good to catch an hour extra sleep, but I had a plan and needed to stick to it. I was so late that the 8am crowd was long-gone by the time I was ready to roll out from the PWC at 9am. The decision was whether I should go the same route as the 8am group and try to catch them, or do my own thing wondering the backroads. I chose to wander the roads. I took off toward Marshalville on 127, turned South to do the 80+ mile route I figured would be challenging, but then I got to 224 and decided to actually try to catch the 8am group. I had really good legs and figured "what the hell", might as well push'em to the failing point. That group was traveling a bit slower than me, but they became a rabbit I needed to catch. They had headed straight out 224 to Montezuma and should be well on their way to Byromville before I would even see them.
Instead of carefully watching my heart-rate monitor that has enslaved me, I rode how I felt and turned the Ipod up a notch to drown-out the wheezing coming from my lungs and the fire burning in my legs.
After reaching Montezuma and turning SE, I was shocked to see the group only 1/2 mile up the road. It was 10am. They were traveling a LOT slower than I thought, but I had also put out the hardest effort I've been capable of since March. I rode with them for about 10 miles and we crept along. Funny how the legs will start hurting after a hard effort when you slow down to nearly a crawl, 12mph at the most with this group, but I knew the signs of what was happening and needed to continue pushing harder than 12mph before my legs shut down. On a few of the "gently rolling farmland" hills, the group was falling off ~ or to be honest, I wasn't slowing down ~ so I began easing the pace back up to continue my solo effort. I should have been more social and said good-day to the group, and it was very rude of me not to, but I just put my head down and rode on. I stopped only once in Unadilla to grab some water and a pop tart since I didn't bring any gels. Amazing the energy you get from junk food. I headed straight back in on 41 and the effort began showing when I reached Henderson, so I backed off the last 6 miles or so. I finished with a 20.7 mph average and was very happy with that. The legs are coming around quicker than expected.
Sunday was a bit different. I got up around 5am to get ready to go Auto-Cross race in Cecil, Ga. It was almost 2 hours of driving in the Miata, then a rush to go through tech/inspect, walk the course, and drive like I stole it for 3 runs. There were some of the fastest cars I've ever seen at this event, and they were sticking to the pavement like glue..........well, not all of them. I managed to do a BK imitation going through the timing lights backwards in the first session of 3 runs, but I put down a respectable time nonetheless. This course was giving the "expert drivers" a challenge, and I was having one helluva a time picking up my next reference points all day long. There were 2 slaloms and I was hitting the rev limiter in 3rd gear on the second slalom. This was a very fast course. I upped the tire pressures for the second session of 3 runs and it balanced the car better for the higher speeds. Still, I managed to do another BK imitation on the last run, which was going to be my fastest of the day I thought. There was no warning when the tires gave up grip on this course, so having fast hands didn't do much for me. And, everyone that was running fast were on Kumho Ecsta V710 tires. Everyone. Oh-well. I had a great time racing, but it was the trip back that made me nervous. There were GSP everywhere and a lot of county mounties in Tifton giving autographs to anyone qualified.
The leason for the weekend: Life is good..........
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