Week 21 : Getting faster by going slower?

Post # 500
That's a bit scary! Didn't think a bit of random scribbling started eight years ago would turn that obsessive!  I'm humbled by the comments received within the bunch, over coffee and on-line,  and still surprised at the international interest from all manner of places.   I'll take all that attention as a hint to continue,  shall I?  Do comment to steer me in the right direction.....

18/5  Wheely smooth.

With a wistful adieu to the faithful old Cosmics now hanging in the shed (haven't they rolled some memorable k's?!) a new pair of Craftworx carbons turned for the first time Saturday morning, the transition from 23 to 25mm most noticeable as I climatized to the feel of a different set of hoops underneath me.  Compliant in corners yet unflinching when off the saddle, the Craftworx Ultima Aero's played a happy chorus on the commute to the grid, self being satisfied they performed as good as they looked.  But would they make an old engine go faster?  Travis, Shorty, Lance, Joe, Rocket, Bruce, Liam, Grumpy, Cate, MyRideTrev, Temple, Wozza, Nev, TatMat, TatPaul and Vince had congregated for the hallowed Saturday spin, a suitably sized squad where there'd be more than one turn at the front and that rubber band syndrome would hopefully be at a minimum.

The warm welcome to Temple being back aboard was brief, the speed to Sanctuary's roundabout testing his time off, Nev hung back to assist but was ushered back to the bunch. We'd catch up socially at the Lemontree.  Five degrees felt strangely warm from several days of four prior, maybe I've toughened to the temperature already?  I'd joined the up-line with Vince ahead and Lance behind, Rocket and Wozza (the inseperable sultans of speed) setting the tempo to Mitchell Rd.  With my new wheels came a new cassette, a Dura-Ace 12-25 close ratio, having that 16 sprocket I'd long craved.  What joy to find that comfortable cadence between spin and grind as the bunch ploughed east to Central Kialla then north to River Rd.  TatMat had a case of the cbf's, MyRideTrev readying for a Broome getaway, Vince squeezing in a lap before labour and Grumpy was breaking the FDC mould by riding regularly.  Tis the season where it's suddenly socially acceptable to sniff, the chill on the olfactories turns the schnoz into a tap in this temperature!

I faced some toil beside Vince from the church to the Big Ring, so I was putty in Lance's hands as we drove west toward the kennels, but he earned an elephant stamp rolling early at Woolshed Rd.

The fast faction was a little outnumbered by the coalition for cruising, consensus setting a not-too-hot velocity toward town, all soaking up the serenity of a Godfather-less group.  With voluntary and paid work pending, Rocket and Vince opted for an early Verney Rd exit, the order now shuffled to put me on Wozza's wheel.  Liam and Grumpy put a pinch of pace back into Wanganui Rd then Wozza and Bruce's long shift toward the hill got me thinking I'd escaped the effort, but Wozza's roll put me at the business end to burn the vastus lateralis up Mt.Wanganui.  A social spin along the Boulevard to breakfast was a pleasant change, Joe was jubilant making it all the way around as we joined Temple and Travis (punctured in Wanganui Rd) for the breakfast babble on Emu's stupidity, sweet smells and the short attention span of some motorists.

20/5 Monday morning's motion.

Monday's mindset was welded to positive, 14 degrees was heaven sent and the joy of working new wheels was still fresh (though the sting in the bank balance might linger for a while)    Wozza, The Godfather, Col, Bruce, Kreeky, Cate and PistolPete had mobbed for Monday morning's motion, Bo & Kel arriving on the car park exit to join as Wozz and Col kindly cranked the first shift into a niggling northeaster.  My 1200 metres working into the wind wasn't the agony I'd predicted, the heart had climbed into the 170's but that 16 sprocket was sweet on the leg labour.  Bruce's follow up was kind, fast but not formidable to the Kinder when I was well due to duck for cover in the draft.  That was it, my contribution done till duty called again later, time now for chat with the chaps (and chapettes) when I could spare the oxygen to talk!  I've come to appreciate the slight slow for Rabbit Row as a chance to bank breaths, though it seems the bunnies have emigrated elsewhere, caution rules to keep us all vertical.

The wind was whipping me at the starboard side when I joined the up-line in Boundary Rd, I'd hoped the drivers would have read the wind and got up the road to serve us some shelter but I guess focus gets fuzzy at the rushin' front sometimes.  My go from Old Dookie to New Dookie Rd carved up the calories beside Col, the measly 800 metres to the rail line feeling more like the Mur.  I was slowly returning to respiratory recovery as Bo and Bruce towed us to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, but Bo and Kreeky played hell with heart rates driving west into the forties toward the bridge. The falling spots from the heavens weren't expected, squinting to the horizon to judge how wet or dry we may finish.   Spots were all we got getting closer to town, PistolPete had retired from rotation (and that wasn't expected either), another turn in the drivers seat for me alongside Col to Verney Rd then Bruce to the highway, getting my work done before Wanganui. The Godfather's jibes from the rear turned up Bo's velocity at the front toward the hill, those few drops now more frequent along The Boulevard, sharpening the speed to consume coffee at the Parklake (for want of venue variety?)

21/5  Goatless!
Facing fog and five degrees, I didn't spare a nanosecond's thought to returning to the warm bed or even a second coffee, straight out the door and kick some k's before I was swamped by softness!  Vision along Verney and Ford Rd's was good for fifty metres ahead though it felt like pushing through porridge. There was hardly a commuting car about till nearing the Lemnos soup tin, the atmospheric pea-soup thickening a little on the 8k's back to town so the white line at the roadside helped keep me on the tarmac. That only four felines had formed at the Notre Dame grid didn't auger well for a big Goat bunch, but I was keeping faith some would front.  5:59 at Friars and the footpath was empty, seems Goats had softened to new lows!  Six bells came and went and with work beckoning me at 7:30, I set off on a solo spin with a nod to Rule #9, assured of peace, winning each segment and the sprint! There's a strange satisfaction in doing a lap while others laze, my speed not worth talking about though the heart was hovering in the middle of zone four out to Boundary Rd. There was a slightly clearer path southbound, seeing only the 5:40's (Bo, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Kel and Col) northbound through the mist.  (Cats apparently abandoned at the outbound edge of town)  A ride with a little less spice in the speed suited me today, hoping I didn't have a  "creature from the black lagoon" moment with Darth Vader or rampant rabbit in Channel Rd.  Dampened by a billion microscopic water drops floating in the fog, I'd returned to town to find
the 5:40's headed to Scottish coffee, but I headed homeward with time ticking away.

22/5 Only committed need apply.

Feels like 3 degrees and the starting grid had been condensed to the committed...and July is yet to test us!  Rocket, Kenworth, Tina, Kreeky, Wozza, Col and Boof proved their winters worth, but who will remain when minuses threaten?  Bo and Grumpy joined as we exited town, the usual task of tempo taken by Boof as the rearmost battled for breath.  A red led blinked as bait through Central Kialla, Superman being the lure caught in River Rd's first leg.  Temperature had squeezed my lungs to half capacity just as duty called at the front, lucky Col was sympathetic to the cause as I soldiered on to the dip, saving a morsel of muscle for the dynamic duo, due next in the drivers seats.

Rather than a recovery, the heart rate went to the heavens as Rocket and Wozza worked their wattage toward Boundary Rd, all the while self saying "this will do you good Foss" despite my legs disagreeing. Kreeky was Christmas on a stick calming the tempo a tad in Boundary Rd, I'd almost felt human again by Channel Rd.  Kenworth's contribution in the drivers seat was short lived, not that I was complaining....my turn would now get done before the charge at the ChaCha.  Beside Col through Rabbit Row and on to Beckham's bend, then with Boof to Jameson Rd, trying to supress what sounded like the closing minutes of a XXX movie.  Boof, Wozza then Rocket advanced to drive us all to the Kinder, some solace sensing a sprint-free conclusion to the circuit as Rocket held the helm (and the hurry) back to town.

23/5 Hare tonic.
There's always a lucky dip at the Couldabeens carpark in the early weekday hours, though Thursday had thinned to just not-so-newAvantiJohn, Will and Grumpy at T minus 5:40.  Will was waiting for the Hares and not-so-newAvantiJohn needed to roll 'round the block to fend off freezing, so Grumpy and I set off in advance, hoping to hitch-hike with the Hares as they hunted us down.  Why it was a battle to hold 34 km/h we could only guess, Grumpy had laboured his legs with hill repeats but my reason related to Rule #5 I think.  Which would be the better workout? To push along paired and puffing or hang onto the Hares hurry? It was all a bit scientific at this hour of the day, that old mantra "Just ride FFS!" was the answer!  The legs distress was dismissed as drivel in Boundary Rd, a peek rearward finding darkness our only pursuant.  To slow for a minute would have been heaven but I don't know anyone who's getting faster by going slower ;  I'll subscribe to the theory that pain pays back with pace. (such profound philosophy at 6:07 am!)

A line of led's were now cutting through the River Rd blackness behind us, the last k to Central Kialla spent wondering the wattage wanted to tack ono their train.  Delayed by puncture, Bo arrived from the west to hitch a Hare hurry too, readying for the rush in Mitchell Rd as Boof, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Nev       and Will slipped swiftly by in smooth syncronicity.  Catching their slipstream, the pace wasn't so punishing (what a difference a draft makes), heart rate remaining unchanged from the last 20k but the legs went liquorice!  There was poetry in motion watching the lads swap turns at the front but there's a feeling of freeloading hanging onto the back without contributing to the cause.  Over the highway and beyond Galbraith's gate, the smoothness helped me to hold on, reaching Conrod built confidence I'd survive the circuit.  No let-up crossing the line, the tempo continued (for the want of caffeine) keeping heads down through town, I'd baulked at a traffic light and broke off the back but enjoyed the calmer cruise home.

24/5  A clown & a car on collision course.
'Twas but the faithful few Friday, Rocket, Kreeky, Boof, Shorty, Kenworth, The Godfather, Wozza, Col and Grumpy ready to roll at six.

With the fastest first (predictably), Boof, Rocket and Wozza led the charge south as the rest of us mere mortals straggled behind in the hope of being counted among the finishers an hour later.  I'd noticed led's pursuing a distance behind (Travis and Liam)  as we'd reached the truck route, so I took the news to the drivers theorising more leg equals less labour.  Kreeky felt the effort of the ENE'er in Mitchell Rd, the lack of laps shortening Shorty's shift through Central Kialla with The Godfather.  I'd reached the front seat turning into River Rd, perfectly timed to face the headwind, the weight of expectation almost crushing as Liam drew alongside, that bridge (the usual roll point) was an eternity away but he remained respectfully level despite his 42 year advantage over me (dad's honour has rubbed off well).   I was pleased as punch with my 1200 metre push to the bridge, that sweet 16 cog a ripper ratio to reach the target, mind you that whisker of worth I felt was soon forgotten as Boof, Rocket and Wozz defined what driving into the wind was all about.

The turn north into Boundary Rd eased the frown lines but The Godfather's taunts only turned up the tempo to Channel Rd.  Effort eased with the wind behind us, the chorus of carbon spinning toward the S bend quickly put on apex alert as a car approached taking a big slice of our side of the tarmac.  Should've gone to Specsavers? Armageddon averted, we threaded a cautious line along Rabbit Row as I paired with The Godfather to the cypress trees, mentally preparing for the pairing with Liam and wondering what challenge the ChaCha would bring.  More than satisfied with the speed to Central Ave, I'd called Liam across and settled in for more speed when Boof hollered a pit stop for a puncture.  We'd at least top up on oxygen before the charge home.  Repaired and remounted soon after, there was a gradual turn up of tempo to the line, a certain clown's cackle prompting a spirited speed back to town.

Week 21       267km               YTD 5,527km