24/9
Seems like it's only the obsessed that rise for a 5am lap, Wozz and I the sole starters at A Mart Saturday. With none to share the load and swap turns, we'd revised the route to a shorter Wed/Fri course, an agreed low 30's pace and a light northeaster should have helped to Mitchell Rd, but it seemed a slog. Driving east, north and east to River Rd put my heart rate on an escalator to 170, and refused to descend. Mental diversion to Lemontree's menu didn't work, a cog swap from 80 to 72 rpm did nothing but cook the calves, and the impatience waiting for a second wind (that never came) was nurturing negatives. A sensor seizure stalled the Garmin at River Rd's dip, freezing the speed was a neural niggle. I kept telling myself this effort will pay dividends, contrary to internal messages being received, I certainly wouldn't push myself to this degree solo, so thanks Wozz, in a sort of masochistic way! I was still searching for distractions when the rumble strips finally appeared, signalling the tarmac's end and a turn into Boundary. Still ticking over in the 170's northbound, the push had eased a whisker, the slightest downhill off the Boundary bridges a cranial utopia. Channel Rd was measurably easier (160 and slowly falling), five minutes ahead of schedule gave us a breather at the carpark (tweaking the speed sensor and rebooting the Garmin awakened the data). Nick, Kel, Hoges, Pickles, HBK, Temple, The Godfather, Jen, Car+Mel, Pistol, Boof, Shorty, AvantiTrev, Tina, BigMat, Popgun, Cougar, newcomer BassoDan, Bo, Bruce, Nev and Tum's arrival amassed the numbers back to normal. There was a Browns cows exit of the carpark at 6, midfielders suddenly assuming the lead and front sitters diving for cover, the big bunch rubber band effect needing a 42 km/h sprint to catch the helmsmen. Settling quickly into the joys of a bunch tow (127 bpm) I fired a sledge at HBK, noticed Hoges had a black taped knee (in memory of a lost shoe?), spied Tum's new Felt, swapped dialog with the delicious Car+Mel, challenged Temple's alarm alteration (avoiding the early lap), while keeping an eye on the newcomers road manners. The tempo felt like two clicks on a social handbrake had been applied, I guess there's plenty of rapid laps midweek as thrash therapy, and it satisfies those of a more temperate tempo temperament. The Godfathers new outfit reflected the personality, Pickles mismatched De Grandi / Movistar ensemble violated rule 17, at least the dapper PistolPete was in chic kit. The pace turned keen at the Emu turn, HBK spinning devilishly dervishly on some strange regime, I shared turns between Jen and Temple as our paths crossed with the Cats, Temple delivering a wattage to make me work . As the sprint urgency boiled at DECA's test track, Popguns unannounced lane swap to the up line threw chaos amongst the tailenders, my berated advice while passing him seemed to be effective. Several were ducking for cover at the pointy end, 53 clicks at the bottom of Wanganui hill reached my leg limit, still in sight of Boof's victory at the crest was enough satisfaction. Wacky dreams, pedometers and solo training bounced across a long and noisy Lemontree table, Popgun admirably repenting his sprint sins.
26/9
A frog fugue in F flat from the Goulburn river started Monday's lap, the streets sprinkled from an unexpected overnight shower (oh well, bike cleaning beats the current television programming!) Navigating on the fly (a benefit of circuiting solo) on New Dookie Rd out of town found the track dry, the mood lifted by a light northwester blowing at the back. Strangely, 80 rpm suited, my easterly course pinging with What's App messages. (thought to be Goats arranging the peace train but, discovering later, it was weather wariness) Head-on into Old Dookie Rd's westerly was penance for the prior tailwind sin, passing the pork palace hopes sank, a spit from the sky, then another, and even more, nek minit; baptised by the heavens! A hopeful search of the skies found a little high cloud (some chance this shower would soon end), so ploughed on to Boundary Rd. The precipitation paused while southbound, rule #9 motivating the pace to the pub, a Channel Rd deviation was now my course hopeful of a Couldabeens intercept. The pitter-patter restarted at the S bend, Couldabeens contenders would be as thin as Hollywood's hairdo now. I pressed on to the carpark (understandably empty) and with the sky now clear, swung south into Archer to bring the kilometre target closer. A sole bike turned from Kialla Lakes to follow, being chased unlocking some extra wattage from the competitive cabinet. To Mitchell then Raftery travelling the track least puddled, socks were still dry but arms and back cooled from a damp kit. There was still some mid thirties urge for Conrod straight, poor bike was soiled and soggy but self was satisfied.
28/9
With the months' use by date fast approaching there's a k craving with a fickle forecast for the months final days. The habitual golf course loop muddied a clean bike, cursing Cleave's clods cluttering Wanganui Rd. Rolled south to the carpark, finding Hoges, Kenworth, Cougar, Shorty, Temple and AvantiTrev trickling in. Seemed it was just Temple, AvantiTrev and Cougar taking the Turtle option at 5:40, delighted to find Kenworth and Shorty had followed to share the load, AvantiMat making it 7 at the Kensington roundabout. Despite a breeze up the bum the accelerator was squeezed gently, Channel Rd the luxury, the rest of the lap labour. Playing co-pilot to Kenworth means work, but has the benefit of a dream draft when he rolls across, Temple and Shorty provided pace but AvantiTrev is shy a k or two, Cougar content curtailed in the caboose. The River Rd run repeats, a road most travelled by bike (few cars at this hour) since the Mitchell Rd way was abandoned many moons ago. I had one wary eye kept on an enlarging pot hole, growing daily from excess rain and minimalist maintenance. Shorty provided a puncture pitstop at Dave's dip, a relief as I'd almost emptied the tank keeping up with Kenworth. The tube changed and about to inflate when the Hares howled by line astern, our circuits remainder tapped a little tamer till Kenworth bolted at the sight of the finish line.
29/9
An upturned lunar crescent above New Dookie Rd's fog was nice scenery to light a lap at 5. A guessed distance and time kept the pace and heart rate up, a slim window of hope to make up a 135k shortfall for September's distance challenge. Up Boundary and back via Lemnos-Cosgrove and Ford Rd's, I added a push to loop around the golf course to get back for the Wozz, Cate, Car+Mel commute to the Couldabeens. The carpark filled with Rocket, HBK, Bruce, Shorty, Weapon, Nick, Temple, Cougar, Nev, Bo, AvantiTrev, PistolPete, Trav, Boof and AvantiMat. Grumpy and Troy blended in on our way out of town, Pelly, BamBam and Ralphy joining from their earlier 5am effort. Squeezed in a brief g'day with my associate in adverbs and partner in participles (Weapon), rotations ruining any chance of chat. The rising sun was square on to Mitchell Rd, an ocular obstruction to navigate, NBK ahead had the sun shining out of his arsenal of wit. I had a few goes at the headcount in River Rd, 26 totalled, which raised a mathematical muse: two rows of thirteen, each occupying two metres with about a metre between each = longer than a B double. It was super smooth behind Ralphy (akin to Kenworth's tow) in the up line, but there was a toil for some in the down line with much mercurial motion, a butterfly effect from a single source ruining rhythm. Car +Mel braved the front, PistolPete kept his birthday under wraps, HBK supposing there'd be a single turn on the front for the whole ride, Rocket's knots unaffected by his holiday beaches, beer and burgers. I'd been promoted forward in Channel Rd as the velocity built, cranking 40 at the veggie patch and admirably paired by Cate aboard the new Avanti express. The bunch's B double dimensions grew longer as Bo and Nev poured on the wattage for the ChaCha, the whoosh whoosh of Rocket's Zipps announcing a victory.
31/9
Spent all day waiting for the showers to clear, just hours of the month remained when hope opened up a window at 5. A nasty north northwester had mostly dried the tarmac, a cruisy 115 bpm headed east to the Cosgrove quarry, forcing work on the return. There was an orange dusk to witness headed back to town via New and Old Dookie Rd, 75 rpm not labouring lungs or murdering muscles. Back into town I steered south onto Archer, a sole Cat completing a lap gave credence to my mission. I added a Tuesday/Thursday circuit to satisfy the Strava specifications, a tap out Channel Rd with the wind behind was boosted by Darth Vader's bark in the dark. The CatEye set on 1200 lumens lit Boundary Rd beautifully, the long cold push into River Rd aided by the k's countdown. I was almost over the effort when Central Kialla's southbound reprieve saved the evening, "not long now" he said turning into Mitchell Rd. I was surprised the old engine's fettle felt fine, maybe benefitting from a recent big sugar downgrade? Dogged determination drove Raftery Rd's urge, through town and back to base to clock 80k's and satisfy Strava's 1250k/month standards. (So what's he do? Click the October challenge!)
Week 39. 314 km. YTD 11,923 km
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