Wednesday, 8 August 2012


NRR Long:
An epic North / Nor'Westerly wind had the bunch size dramatically reduced this morning, a mere dozen or so made the journey past Frankston into the hills.

We rolled two up southward, Guirguis and I on the front chatting about training or something equally fascinating, no one else seemed to mind the pace, or if they did showed no sign of wanting to roll through. So on we pedalled, to Frankston and the waiting pain.

In the bunch were riders I knew to be strong, Guirgs, Lee and Alan Iacuone, I vowed to keep my arse firmly in my seat until the last kick of Canadian Bay Rd, a move I hoped would save some strength to play with them up Two Bays Rd.

Up Kars St the bunch slowed at the front so I kept the power on, behind I heard Lee shout out in protest. It felt like a sign of weakness.... I went harder. Over the top I sat up and found Guirg and myself clear, we took a moment and decided to drive the pace and see if we could stay away. The indecision meant a few others got on as we rolled into the rise of Baden Powell Dr, Guirgs on the front, smacking hard tempo wasnt enough to shake them loose at the top, so we let a few roll through and work for us to the highway and up to the Canadian Bay turn. I asked Mark how his Two Bays was, and he said it wasn't ace and he'd work for me.

Alan came through then, initially hesitant then setting a hard pace for the long first pinch, I told Guirgs to chase cover it, a matter of a few solid pedals, then we were camped out on the wheel. The false flat middle section took forever to come, but it must have been an eternity for Alan, alone on the front. He reached it and couldn't hold the pace, a prime time for us to move. Without a comment Mark did the right thing and pushed past, holding the hard pace, I was sure Alan would never recover to catch my wheel, but I ensured he had a gap to chase by getting out of the saddle and coming around Guirgs up the final kick to the top. My heart smashing against my ribs, my lungs heaving my diaphragm out the way like football players through a banner. Alan had made the move, and I was fair in the box. So much so I couldn't hold the two riders down the descent. The small rises requiring more than my screaming legs had to give, I tried to stay patient, to wait for the open section where my mass would come to the fore, to try and conserve as much energy as possible.

Coming round the last tight corner another rider bridged to me and I let them through, glad of the free sit to the leading pair. As a 4 with daylight to anyone else we made the left onto Two Bays and I knew that I was going to have to dig deeper into the deep hole I was already in. Last in line I was just starting to assess the body language of the 3 in front when I heard my pump fall out my back pocket. My brain took a moment to fire up the logic circuits and weigh up the $40 value of the pump and the priceless value of a KOM. I turned back for the pump then set about chasing down the couple of riders who'd whipped through while I awkwardly returned for my equipment.

Thankfully for my keyboard the return leg of the ride was uneventful, another two up affair into a strong and gusty headwind. At times our pace was slowed to 20km/h, a far cry from the 50+ the ride often achieves.

An analysis of the ride data on strava tells me that the trip up Canadian Bay was the quickest I've done (since April), a full 10 seconds quicker than the PB last week. I like when things like that happen.

Time at work: 9:22am

Strava link.

D: 100.5km
A: 705m


D: 9.0km
A: 110m

PMPW: 92kg

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