Tuesday, 9 October 2012

9/10/2012

6am NRR:
The big wheels are still on my roadie from the weekend, I reckon they'll stay on all week, because it's more effort to take them off and put them on again than it's worth. Even with this horribly unfair advantage the ride hurt a bit this morning. Possibly because I'm still wearing the effects of double racing Sunday, possibly because the tyres were at 80psi.

Still, there were a few moments that felt "right", moments where my legs delivered the sort of performance I wish for.

I hit Rickets Point pretty hard, Golly was on the front and given he's attacked a clean, hard turn riding working group here a bunch of times I took great pleasure in ripping past him with a few extra clicks an hour and holding the throttle wiiiide open. The AXS/Spencers rider reached my wheel after the crest, I'd had time to sit up, turn around and grin at him... all the while soft pedalling to get through the fire in my legs.

The next happy point was the Golden Mile. I found myself way too far back, so scooted up the outside of the bunch. As I approached the lead 10 or so riders, I realised there were no easy holes for me to slot into and Ray Forbes was on the front. I decided to give him a chop out, rolling to the fore and getting down low to boogey. Round into Ormond Esplanade eventually Skinny decided to relieve me and I eased up, searching for a place to get back into the lineout. It took a while; riders were whipping through tight on each other's wheels.

The final moment wasn't long after my long turn. I was a ways back as we approached Glen Huntly, legs still smarting from the last effort, but I was moving up. If I could pull one last turn to help others get some giggles out of a sprint, well.... that'd probably help me too. I rolled off a wheel about 15-20 back as we got to the canal. Guys were winding up their sprints... but they didn't seem to be going terribly fast. I was out of the saddle, in the drops, sprinting like a roadie. It was a foreign thing, but it felt good. I kept hammering away and hauled in rider after rider, rolling my wheels in front of Lachy just moments before the line to take "the win".

Strava link.

D: 44.4km
A: 184m

Commute:
A few sneaky sections of dirt on the CX bike. I know CX season is basically done and mudded, but I'm starting to feel better about the rhythm of the cross bike. I'm not Stybar, but finally it feels alright to get the skinny knobbies airborne.

D: 23.6km
A: 273m

PMPW: 91kg

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