My Shadow Rides A Litespeed

Long-time-no-post. There really no appropriate explanation, I have been riding, I have been involved in some novel bike related activities and I am excited about the upcoming Riverlution. Guess I just didn’t want to. Facebook and Twitter have so much more immediate gratification. I can usually sum up my activities in 140 characters anyway. I am just not that deep or verbose.

This summer has been a battle of my riding mojo (or rather lack there of). Seems I have to really talk myself into saddling up. When I do, the results are typically good and lately, better than expected. I attributed last years riding troubles to the heat. I always try to blame work related stress, cuz it is true. I have been trying to get into a schedule of any sort as the Century Season approaches. First is the Riverlution (70 miles) then the Seagull (100) possibly Ride 4 Hope (50) and then the Horrible Hundred (obviously 100). I am kind of worried about making even the first one at this point.

I have been trying to build up distances and my climbing strength. The two seem to be quite at odds with each other. One day I have a great climb workout, the next I can’t fulfill my miles without wanting to up-chuck on my top-tube! The week before last for instance. I did not feel terribly inspired to ride Saturday, but I eased into the idea, my chamois and then the bike. It felt rough out of sorts. I ended up having the fastest ride of my “season!” In fact I had ridden Thursday, Friday and then Saturday. So planning for a 50 on Sunday I was tired but determined. “Los Mojo” was not going to win this week. I felt pretty good, only to determine later that I had enough of a tailwind to fool me into going further. At on point I caught a blue and yellow helmet approaching just out of the corner of my eye. I waited for the rider to pass. I held my line despite being hit repeatedly by branches jutting out like a Deutscher’s Mussette bag just waiting to take me down. I pushed, kept pace and never let up. For four miles all I saw was a shadow hanging there, never really retreating, certainly not gaining. Just there about a yard back. That probably pushed me a little harder than I had hoped because all the way back the headwind pushed back at me.

This last Sunday was a scheduled 60 in prep for the Riverlution. I had ridden Friday and Saturday with a magnificent climb Saturday. A pittance for any one else with any elevation, but something for me to aspire towards. I woke up Sunday and Los Mojo was sitting on me like a cement truck. Coffee, puttering around, the threat of increasing heat, nothing inspired me to get out. I came close to going back to bed but prepped a bottle instead. Then another. Then pulled out a jersey. Slowly I readied myself for a ride of any length. I figured maybe 20 miles. Okay then 30. Finally decided I could do 40 and make it back in time for a meeting over some Belgian beer(s).

I came around a bend and noted two riders turning around at an intersection. Ah, rabbits to chase. I set out in pursuit. While one got away, I gained on the second, in true predator fashion I sectioned off the weaker from the herd. When I did catch up I noted a man, in his late 60s no doubt, wearing a blue kit riding a Litespeed. Could this be the Shadow from the prior week? Was it a look back or a look forward, to be pretzel thin and venous. I am still not sure. But, he was a nice guy – looked like an anemic Grandpa Walton, and chatty – couldn’t have been The Shadow. We took turns pulling, held a great pace until he turned off and I headed on.
Though I had scheduled 60, settled for 40 I ran out of water with no where to refill and had to call it at 38. My hope is this week Los Mojo will take a beating and surrender for the summer.

Spin On