Week 33 : Mind over murdered muscles.

Post # 461
11/8 Serendipitous Saturday.
Ignoring a forlorn forecast and a ruinous radar, I'd predicted less than a handful would front for Saturday's lap, but a serve of serendipity attracted Boof, Wozza, TatMat, Rocket, PistolPete, TatPaul, Mark, Bruce, MyRideTrev and Travis to the grid.  Setting south at 6, Trish, The Godfather, Shorty and Superman were found on the Archer St escape, filling the field for a pedalling precursor to porridge.

The waft of wind behind (and after a week's worth of cowering in the down-line) caused a cranial carpe diem, so I paired with Boof to the roundabout then with Wozz to the truck route (why do I find myself fraternising with the fastest?)   As the speed stayed spicy to Mitchell Rd, I was into the red zone to survive at second wheel, hanging on in the sole hope of respite when (& if) the speed settled.   Reality thankfully trimmed 10% off the tempo when we turned east toward Central Kialla, a chance only now to gain some composure before duty called again.  The Godfather copped critique for his Cat collaboration / Couldabeens criticism, his bike bearing a budgie-like squeak to pester the peloton, Superman struggled with speed (kryptonite in the kit or just mental make believe?) and MyRideTrev, Trish and Shorty didn't even emerge from the confines of the caboose.  A shepherd's warning brewed on the horizon as the bunch carved through Boundary Rd's breeze, I was facing another turn at the pointy end but I'd been well rested in Boof's draft.   Bruce beckoned Boof over a bit beyond the Broken bridges, bringing me to the front to face the fact of the flogging into the wind. 

I was going ok for half a k till the wind whittled down my willpower (and I had a workout with Wozza to follow!)   He's a scholar of Rule #86 so I'd nothing to fear, but I was almost empty reaching the highway so hallelujah'd the halt for traffic.  Just winding up to speed again when a minor mechanical split the bunch, so the proper pause to regroup was as delicious as a d'Huez downhill.  The restart put me on TatMat's wheel, super smooth and predictable kept concerns corralled as Rocket, Wozza and Pistol bored into the breeze with aplomb (I'll have what they're having for breakfast , though I think a big serve of youth and fitness would be better)   Straight up Boundary Rd and bypassing the leg to the Toaster was hoped to avoid the radar's rain, a relief to work west with the north northwester to our starboard shoulder.  CatKev was the sole feline with testicular tenacity to face the clockwise Toaster (perhaps the pussycats have taken to paper tole or pot porri as a past-time?) as we ran out of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd and faced Ford.  Another turn at the rushin' front was soon due for me, so prayed I'd score a tree-lined shelter from the wind.

No such luck in the grind to Grahamvale Rd, Bruce was encouraging and TatMat was sympathetic but wattage was what I wanted.  A drop or three from the heavens whet the search for a shortcut home, Rocket retired at the rail-line with a puncture but beckoned us onward with Pistol, Shorty, Superman and Trish as his pit-crew.  The route via Numurkah Rd to breakfast was voted unanimously as the drops multiplied and Ford Rd ended, a tailwind taking tempo to the 40's for the 4k to the Lemontree.     MyRideTrev, Pistol and Trish toured in via Verney, Cougar cruised in from a calmer course, the pedestrian pack (Sim, Mrs.Pistol and Jen) parked and the café comeback crew (Temple, KillkennyPaul, Softa and ScottMatt) collected for the tattle on the three r's, hope springing eternal and slipping standards.

13/8  Winston's words ; never give in, never give in, never ever.
Obsession dragged me out of bed and north to Zeerust  at crazy o'clock on Monday, dealing with a wearing westerly, better at the portside than hammering me head on.  Distance was on my to-do list (the Fruitloop less than 4 weeks away), the engine running reasonably well for the start of a new week but the breeze swung to a west northwester, just enough to punish progress north.  6k's of toil was soon rewarded with a tailwind to the highway, 3k's of calm before a southbound slog back to town wind the wind niggling at the starboard side this time.

I occupied the smooth tarmac worn by traffic to ease the effort while the road was barren, my eta to town looked set to catch the peace train till that sense of softness struck in town, glass had deflated a rear tube and the hopes of a lap with the tame train.  Under a streetlight helped the pit-stop, Bruce happened to pass by and shed even better lumens to the repair.  Up and away on Old Dookie Rd and well behind schedule, I'd planned a short lap till the sight of distant red led's ahead brought out the bait for a chase.  At Central Ave hopes were slipping as the gap seemed to lengthen, but Winston's words told me to keep at it.  By Boundary Rd I was convincing myself I was closing, by the Pub the gain was measureable, time to empty the tank and catch the tail as others joined their ranks.  Onto the back at the Broken bridges, I'd caught Phil, Hommie, Belly, Sandy and Brendy, a k spent calming the cardiac convulsions in the draft before I'd get guilty and contribute to the cause. Brendy had claimed the rear seat for River Rd so I leapfrogged to Hommie's wheel and waited for my shift, Phil, Belly and Sandy dividing the distance to put me in the drivers seat at the dip.  Keeping the turn conservative (I had a 10k solo slog to suffer ahead) I let Phil front the five at the bridge to finish River Rd.  I had quite a push to reach Archer Rd as oncoming trucks blew me backward, though the sense of satisfaction on a successful chase kept spirits high when energy was low.

15/8  Goat gumption.
The consistent collected at the café (Coggo, Phil, Cate, Heady, Sandy, Belly and Hommie) to make a gathering of Goats with gumption, how the hibernators (AvantiAndy, Joey, JB, Bazza, Speissy, Jen, HG et al) are going to suffer on their emergence!

It's almost the same old squad, the same old single file on the same old circuit, but each day throws up a different order and changing wind and weather to make a velo variety.    A west northwester (thankfully a half strength of yesterday's) helped the hurry out of town, I'd inherited Heady's shift as the payback of being first to berth at Friars.   Cate, Heady and Sandy followed suit, my perch on Belly's wheel the trophy tow.  Boundary Rd wasn't so blessed with the wind at the right shoulder, though the effort eased as the echelon got organised.  Great to see Heady and Sandy putting in the turns when they once survived sitting on, Belly turned up the torque at the mere hint of  an incline but Coggo cranked cool and consistent to keep the rubber band from busting.   I did the Channel Rd to One Tree Dam leg and handed Cate the captaincy, tucking in at the back to brace for River Rd's rigor into the wind.  The driving was diplomatically divided up among the eight westward, kudo's curing the pain (mentally) for those peeling off the front to retreat for rearmost rehabilitation, I'd been assigned the last k of River Rd when I'd rather have been resting in readiness for the hard part home.  Happy the truck route was truck free from B double blasts, Cate and I worked west to Archer Rd but found a similar slog north to town, I'd have eased to a roll homeward if solo, but pairing with a fellow cyclust pushes the boundaries beyond, muscles were mush as I reached the city limits and Cate still kept the cadence cooking!

15/8  Windustrial Wednesday.
As a September sampler, wind swept me to the carpark on Wednesday, a northerly (18-28 km/h) would bless us before berating us today,

The Godfather, PistolPete, Mark, Rocket, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Cate, Boof, Nev, Kreeky, MyRideTrev, Wozza, Trish and CatCol proved a few fear nothing.  I jumped at the chance for an early shift while the wind was blowing at the backside, trying to keep up with Wozz while he handbraked his speed to Sanctuary, then to pair with Rocket to the truck route was a case of  'old nag amongst the stallions'.  I tucked into a tow while others braved the breezy end in Mitchell Rd, not-so-newAvantiJohn putting in the hard yards north through Central Kialla and to the bridge in River Rd well worth an honourable mention.  There was silence in the down line from the brave who'd done their bit, trepidation in the up line for those about to do battle.  Turning into Boundary Rd my pairing with Wozza went well for a minute, but half a k later the wind ranked me wrecked, time to roll before I imploded.

I'd barely made 300 meters when I begged Rocket to roll, out of breath and out of my depth at the business end was asking for trouble.  It was now a matter of mind over murdered muscles to hang onto Rocket's wheel, he and Pistol in another league charging to Channel Rd as if the wind was whimsical. 
I tried to supress the growling bear for fear of frightening others, my focus firmly fixed on the ferrule of Rocket's rear brake cable for want of a distraction from the distress.  A glance upward to judge the distance left only amplified the agony, but this was better training than tailgating.  Such relief to turn west and grovel for shelter in Channel Rd, just enough left in the tank to keep in the tow till the h.r. dropped from the heavens.  Some composure had returned by the cypress trees, The Godfather supplying an interval and entertainment with a prodigious puncture, copious Cat connotations, sledges and retorts enjoyed during the repairs.  Calm was called for the ChaCha on the restart, clouds anointing our return to town, the wind working weakness into wearied legs for the northbound ride home.


16/8  The cold comeback.

A longer lap (to rid the ritual rides of 35k's) was the therapy thought for Thursday, out to the Big Ring and Toaster to tap back to town might learn the legs some length with the Goats lap added as extra measure.  Even with the wind behind speed was a bit ordinary, putting the paltry pace down to the handbrake of 3 degrees and 'feels like' 1.  Don't you hate it when the only oncoming car burns a 4000 lumen led bar and refuses to use low beam (oh, that's right; it's only a bicycle!)  May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your underwear!  The 3 k's from the Big Ring to the Toaster was spent in mental maintenance for the headwind to town, but pace was pretty pleasing considering.  Lowering the head raised the velocity, tuning out to the distance seemed to consume up the k's quickly, fronting Friars with 3 minutes to spare.  With Coggo the sole starter I figured there'd be hurt ahead, but Sandy, Phil, Belly, Hommie, AvantiLeigh and Dipper's arrival meant there'd be some ease between the efforts.

Coggo covered Heady's hiatus to tow us out of town, his elbow giving me the Dobson's to Central Ave shift.  Sticking to the speed standard set, I caught compliments for the contribution as I peeled off to tag onto the tail, Sandy, Belly, Phil and AvantiLeigh doing their bit toward Boundary.  Hommie's bike was strangely silent (a rare bit of care being treated to a new chain), AvantiLeigh is gifted with the rides-sometimes-but-rides-strong syndrome and Dipper's having a dead set dip despite his scarce appearances.

 Coggo's shift finished as we neared Channel Rd, I set my target to breach the Broken bridges but that felt fairly flimsy when I got there (onward feeble Foss and make your shift swift, less ye be labelled limp!)   Belly got my elbow at One Tree Dam as I retreated for recovery, would another turn fall due in River Rd or would I be treated to a tow to it's end?   Fog floored the fields as a few lumens of light lit the land, all had another flog at the front but delivered me the short straw just over the bridge.  I ran at the red-line to River's end, promising myself a calmer crank home, cold biting at the extremities for the solitary 10k to town but happy to cap 60 before 7 in 'feels like' 1.

17/8  The baker's dirty dozen.

I was surprised the streets were soaked for the Friday foray, the 4am sprinkle may have steered several back to bed but Rocket, TrekTrev, Kreeky, PistolPete, Cate, The Godfather, Boof, MyRideTrev, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Pelly, Bruce and (at the third stroke) Nev cast aside the conditions to crank a lap. A wind-less weekday was welcomed, so I didn't mind driving the first leg, gradually up to speed by the city limits and a sympathetic speed set by Boof to the roundabout made a sweet start. Puddles and mud made a baker's dozen dirty, most unaware of the overnight shower till ready to ride.  The further south and east, the dryer the tarmac became, Nev performed the ceremonial gillet pocketing on cue, Pelly was defying FDC standards by riding more than twice a week, TrekTrev emerged from the oblivion of work and weather and MyRideTrev consoled himself to the caboose (as a matter of course) as just 4 Cats cranked west.

  I was wondering who pinched the white lines of River Rd's last k as I paired with Boof toward Boundary, it seemed a world away as energy drained from my rusty old tank.  A pained train of 6 Goats sailed south, my effort eased on the demotion from 2nd to 3rd wheel as we nosed north.  It's hard to dodge each puddle (unless imitating WobblyTrev!) so random irrigation of bikes, kits and nostrils was commonplace.  To the back of the bunch in Channel Rd and onto the up-line, it seemed I was due for duty as the sprint drew near, but the wet and the ChaCha's channels of puddles put a dampener on the exertion, so the substitute solid tap to town was the week's fitting finale.

Week 33   273km               YTD 8,808km