Saturday, 6 February 2010


Hell Ride:
My legs were still sore to walk on and touch this morning when the alarm sounded at 5am. Thoughts of "why" and "too little sleep" fought each other for my awareness. Even the forecast was dour.

I'm happy to say that's the end of the negativity for the day. The weather was perfect, and I had 100 or so people to play with. What more could you ask for?

After last week I refused to be dropped, and the only way to ensure that was to be up the front. On the way down to Frankston I wasn't quite willing to work repeated turns, it wasn't really an option either as there wasn't a working group rolling around each other. This meant that to maintain contact with the front I'd have to edge my way out then haul an ITT effort past the riders who had swamped me/the front and slot myself at the head of everyone.

Hopes rise was a 53x16 effort, we came hooking in with such speed that I never bothered to gear down, when gravity washed off all my momentum I just got out of the saddle and smacked the pedals.

On the trip home I pulled turns, I figured the tailwind assisted 45-46km/h was decent as no one would come around until I swing over and flicked my elbow. Well, Leigh Schilling broke the illusion, after one of my turns he hit the front and took us from 45 to 54km/h. He's a big guy and my brain told me I should be able to hold his wheel so I fought hard to close the 12 inch gap. After an eternity of pain my legs decided they didn't like that game any more and I cracked. What a fucking beast (Leigh not me).

I did a bit more work to get us through to Black Rock, but was poorly placed and the legs felt too used to compete in the sprint.

D: 87.6km
A: 300m

PMPW: 90kg

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