Week 33 : Alleviating anaerobic anxiety

Post 408
12/8  Saturday satisfaction.

It was a quiet commute solo to Saturday's social spin, soaking up the sublime Cosmic carbonaria and a mild (9 degrees) morning.  The Godfather, TatPaul, Softa, TatMat, ScottMatt, Jen, PistolPete, Wozza, Bruce, Shorty, Troy, Kel, AvantiAndy, Boof, Rocket, KillkennyPaul, Jase, Lucy, Temple, Lenny, Bo and Merida-not-AvantiJohn crammed the carpark, ScottMatt and I paying the price of early arrival with the first shift. A moment of mist from above sent a shiver of showers through the bunch but the clouds weren't so threatening through my specs (rose coloured?).  Time off the bike has tamed ScottMatt to make my first 3k cruisy, but it was cruel for the next 1700 meters beside TatMat.   Troy, Boof and Bruce kept the effort elevated for Mitchell Rd and Central Kialla, a blanket of baulk thrown over the bunch as some less swift got to the drivers seat at the River Rd bridge. A social sentence later we were back to work (some set the standard and others follow.....under expectation or perspiration?)

The WNW'er caressed the ego if only to crush it for our return to town, sheltered in the up-line on the push up Boundary Rd hid the horsepower needed to keep tempo at the front.  TatPaul's turn was brief and breathless, TatMat's long and strong as I shared the pairing from the pig pen to Old Dookie Rd.
Several were missing in action (seeking solace in the rear seats) as we skirted the railway ripple strips and up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to work west 12k back to breakfast. I could sense a mushiness in my Michelin as wheels whacked a UFO (Unidentified F#&%'n 'Ole), press on Foss till a rim on road forces a halt.  Predictions of peloton placement were already being calculated for the sprint, promoted further forward as the length of Ford faded.

It was TatMat and I who scored the workload as we entered Wanganui Rd for a blast up to 40 when thankfully the turns rolled quickly.  I'd almost reached the rear by DECA when ushered to rejoin the advancing troops, The Godfather in the lead role of lead-out as many hopefuls were being ejected off the back.  Luck and placement had me catching the draft up the hill for a top 6 finish, several in my tow appreciative.

Breakfast babble (and a sense of secret scrutiny?) aplenty at the Lemontree on Mark Beaumont, wind (the weather type), remembering names, plans for a Tour de Pub, doors that close and the doors that open after, retro bikes and a second order of Couldabeens kits. (I was just up my driveway when the front tube let the last of the air go.......what timing!)

14/8  What light through yonder horizon breaks?
Around the golf course loop and with Monday morning time up my armwarmer, I bit the bait of the road less traveled northeast (into the headwind) to Radio Australia then south on Verney to board the Goat peace train.  Sly's tech tattle drowned my ears as Jen, AvantiAndy, Heady, Tina and AvantiCraig rolled into the roundabout for the 6am off, a mild morning and a northeaster a welcome break from the recent chilly southerlies.  Tina's tuned from a Buffalo-in-the-snow weekend, AvantiAndy's been secret squirrel training, even AvantiCraig has squeezed 4 rides into a fortnight, but Heady's hammered from hibernation. (and there's a whole lot of hurt awaiting the gaggle of Goats still to shake off their doonas)

East to Boundary and south to River, seven took their turns till Heady herniated beyond the pub.  Comfort was on holiday for me today as the Fizik felt fickle (or was it the sit site softening from Sundays slumber?), Sly putting peace to bed for a solid slog along River Rd. My enemy of time turned me along the truck route and Archer toward home, enthused by an earlier sun rise suggesting spring is almost with us.  

15/8        #5 & #9
A glimmer of hope filtered through Tuesday's radar as the abandons pinged on What'sApp in the early hours, Rule #5 and Rule #9 resonated to ride!  The dull damp from earlier showers kissed goodbye to an unblemished Baum, the 5k soggy slog to the carpark would sort the hard from the soft.  As suspected, the grid was empty, only ramping up my resolve to do a lap that others didn't, so I set forth east with a sense of urgency (to outrun the rain?) against a northeaster (13-20 km/h) that took the slack out of the illiopsoas and pectineus.  The orchards, twists and turns of Channel Rd gave some recovery from the wind (the bark in the dark from Darth Vader pushed the h.r. over 170 bpm) so it was bonus reaching Boundary to deal with the breeze only blowing at the portside. With enough light in the sky to see the clouds had little threat, River Rd was almost enjoyable (aside from the rooster tails of water up the nose) as the wind swung ENE, but pace needed rationing without the bonus of a bunch or buddy to draft.  Time too was ticking without a bunch average, so the usual shortcut via the truck route and Archer would get me home back on agenda.  An unseen inch of roadside gravel grabbed the front wheel as a B double passed (spiking the heart rate), back to town feeling like a wet rag (but chuffed), a road hungry half-wit crowded me to the gutter as I rode the empty car parks (for want of a bike lane) home.

16/8   The hardcore four
Doubts were high that few would front the windy (24-46 km/h) Wednesday with roads still saturated from yesterday's soaking (21mm) but PistolPete (convalescing from a cold) escaped his sick bed, Tina and CatCol the only others tough enough to endure the elements.  I didn't mind doing the first shift with a northwest assistance to the Sanctuary roundabout, PistolPete sympathetic to the speed of us humble B graders down to Mitchell Rd where Tina tempo'd us to Central Kialla.  CatCol had a spirited spin up to River Rd, handing me another wind assisted turn to the River Rd bridge.  I wondered if PistolPete would take the helm for the rest of River but he fairly shared the breeze at the back door, handing over to Tina at the kennels.  Pace had pickled CatCol who struggled to keep Tina's tempo, a gap needed filling as Col's tank emptied. I went ahead to loan him a draft, and with Pistol we reformed the quartet just as my turn for torture turned up in Boundary Rd.

Keeping smooth and straight was asking a lot as winds whipped at the wheels, a small comfort came in the shelter of the Broken river trees so I stretched my turn on reaching Channel which almost bent a valve.  Legs went like Gumby's to catch Tina's wheel as Pistol powered possessed into the headwind for home, by the S bend CatCol was in tempo trouble again so I repeated the draft donation to keep the team together (Pistol soon saw the strife and adjusted his pace so we all might survive)  An anger brewed inside as the relentless wind blew at the brow, legs and lungs were unable to match what the will wanted (my contribution from Jameson Rd to the Kinder made harder when I caught sight of 183 bpm).   Pistol again saved the day bearing the brunt to Doyles Rd, all putting in one last stand to finally reach town.

17/8  Thuffering Thursday
Within milliseconds of pulling the pin, h.t.f.u. won the battle in the brain to face a dark, damp and windy Thursday, after all, there was mud, worms and water to soil a sparkling bike and kit!  I'd almost committed to a solitary slog when PistolPete, Rocket, Boof and Bruce rolled in to grid, but Boof had punctured (just for our entertainment?) harnessing the launch.  Repaired and rolling, Rocket took the reigns for leg one, this is doable me thinks till the tempo kept climbing beyond 40 beyond Kensington (oh stop sooking and suck it up Foss! You're amongst allies) Bruce headed the 1400 meter leg 2 as I squashed the sceptics in my skull in preparation to lead leg 3.  The pressure to perform eased with a Garmin glimpse (41 clicks) as I threaded the thin line between the ChaCha puddles, ignoring the heart rate would alleviate anaerobic anxiety.  Reaching the Kinder was the end of my rope, there was just enough jellybeans in the jar to catch Bruce's wheel as Pistol shot off to the cypress trees.

There was a swift stop at Boundary Rd for two untimely trucks, then Bruce bolted to the Broken bridges for my second shift to start.  Maybe the constant consumption of concrete of late has tuned up the old engine, as it was running well enough at One Tree Dam (where Hoges joined in) to push on to reach River (or was the NNW'er giving a false sense of speed security?) Almost to the point of percolation, Hoges saved me calling "puncture" at Disco Steve's.  The pause to pitstop was a holiday for the heart, Hoges' repair was the comic intermission till toil tolled again.  Expertly echeloned across River Rd, the five helped me find a second wind, enthused enough to take on a third shift for the last k of River.  Gasping to grab the draft of the last wheel signed me off any further contributions, it would take several k's before I could perform this pace again.  A feeling of inadequacy faded as other shifts shortened, the wind was wearing away the wattage as our six pack hurtled toward the highway.  Boof called it quits at Galbraiths gate and reserved a seat in the caboose, I was struggling for spare wattage as we swung into Conrod straight with 1200 meters of muscle masochism to go.  Rocket martyred a 500 meter drive to hand Bruce the final 200, but Hoges' appetite for chocolates was stronger (just to finish was reward enough for me).

18/8  Windecent exposure
With more wind than a dozen dim sims, Friday tested those already craving to crank after a wet week.  At least the wind (22 to 41 km/h) had dried the roads!  Wozza, Troy, Bruce, PistolPete, Pelly, Kel, BamBam, Boof and Bo arrived with a grimace for the wind but a grin with ten to share the load.  Happily hurtling south with the breeze at the backside, the hurt (and hernias?) heading home was furthest from our thoughts with Strava trophies to score eastbound.

Hats off to BamBam (rarely riding) and Kel ploughing into the northern leg of Central Kialla 'cause I had the easier effort of River Rd (bridge to the dip) though the speed was taking its toll.  Priming my resolve in Boundary Rd, I paired with Bruce at the Broken bridges but I needed a therapist for the headwind in Channel Rd.  Pelly had disappeared from duty, Troy graciously leveling with me (hope I didn't wear out your brakes mate!) till my legs and lungs could give no more at Sellmans.  Bo then Wozza were promoted to the pain at the S bend, Wozz calling single file at the cypress trees to minimise the damage.  Hanging on in quiet desperation as Bo then Bruce cranked to the Kinder, I'd hoped Bruce was going all the way till his elbow said "no way" at Hopeful corner.  With chin on the headstem and all stops out, I survived a few hundred meters till imploding into a gasping wreck, unable to catch the last wheel till the nine slowed for Orrvale Rd.  PistolPete, Boof and Troy kept up the cruelty back to town, BamBam unhitching in the last 2 k's (but Troy slowed to tow Pinocchio)

Week 33     250 km               YTD 8,261