Wednesday, 17 June 2015

17/06/2015

NRR Long:
I was hoping to sit in a lot today, but really never got the nice easy ride I'd hoped.

It started right out the gate when I didn't want to sit at the back, so rolled to the front. Then after Mordi, the whole bunch rolled turns, so no slacking off could happen then. In the hills behind Frankston attacks started early, and keeping myself in/near the riders had me blowing bubbles. Then on the trip home dudes were pulling hot turns out front, leaving the rest of us single file in the gutter.

Getting stretched on the way home happens, I even expect it a little because my aim for the long bunch is always the hills. To hit them as hard as possible, and if that affects the ride home, then so be it.

So... the hills... I wasn't feeling amazing on the Kars st burg, starting way back and wondering what level of torture I was in for on the coming hills. I had my arse in the saddle, grinding out a gear, passing a few riders, watching a few guys create a gap off the front, realising I'd created one behind me and that I now had a decision. Chase, or wait. I chose to chase, and I suppose that course of events, or even those 4 words could be used to describe the next hills. I never felt great, I was never the one dishing out the pain, but I was always in the top half dozen riders, dribbling away on my handlebars in a world of hurt.

Strava link.

D: 94.8km
A: 521m

PMPW: 84kg

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