The predictable happened last night. Well at least as I had predicted, though I had hopped for it to be different. Hope, as we know is not enough. So last night, while I earned to stay with the peloton in the brutal curvy head wind section I lost contact. I was slowed by the wind, they hit the tail wind section and that was all she wrote. So I employed the same tactic I did two weeks ago and jumped back into the pack as I got lapped. Only this week I managed to hang on for the last three laps.
As you’ll recall, Monday I posted about how getting my ass handed to me each week was starting to wear thin. Its not the ass kicking so much as it is the feeling of desperation. I’m sitting at the back of the race giving everything I have to hang on. There are the usual suspects back there. Guys who I’m sure I’d meet if any of us were capable of speech while reaching our max heart rates. Then there are the guys who come to visit. They hang out for half a lap, to one lap max, before moving up through the sea of colored jerseys as ghosts pass through walls.
After Monday’s post a friend sent me a note recalling his younger days when he trained his ass off, only to get smacked down by bad luck, tough hills and some lame ass rule that excluded him because he was a junior. The email focused on something I knew, but seem to forget from time to time. To simplify it: the work is the reward. I love, and indeed live for the suffering. It being hard is the is the point. I know this. I’ve written about it here. Hell, The Lady’s mother even commented that I must have been a Catholic in a past life because I like to suffer so much. All joking about reincarnation aside, what she says is true.
I’m not particularly gifted when it comes to riding bikes, though endurance doesn’t seem to be a problem for me. Which is to say that I’m never going to be that amazing guy who is always finishing in the top ten. However, I would like to be the guy who does hammer hard and gets lucky enough to find himself in a break from time to time. Well, maybe not lucky, by savvy enough to get myself in to that break (or believing in myself enough) There is still a ton I don’t know about racing. Like staying in the draft, or cornering well, and how to drift through the pack like a ghost. I’ll get there. I just need to be more accepting of throwing myself in there.
The work is the reward. Here’s to more hard work.