Week 43 : The struggle study.

Post #523
19/10  Team B born.

A prologue beckoned when sleep ceased at stupid o'clock, a north loop of the golf course then a southern loop of Raftery Rd was guessed to soak up an hour.  Hopefully.  To reach the grid by six kept the speed simmering, a westerly to deal with at times and the distance was in doubt, the added challenge that there's no shortcut once committed to Raftery Rd.  Happy then that my timing was impeccable arriving at the grid at 5:56.  Ol' mate Temple had put the call out for a split in the squad, the growing population and an expanding gap between drivers and survivors suggested a steady not supersonic spin may find favour.  Rocket, Bruce, Grumpy, Wozza, BeerMat, TatPaul, Col, Tina, GiantAndy, Kreeky, TrekTrev, Liam, Ralphy, PistolPete, Boof, Bo, TatMat, Nev and Trav amassed in the carpark, though I sided with Temple, Dalts, Vince, Lance, Superman and MyRideTrev to give birth to a team B.

The wind behind was a welcomed start for two short lines to do turns out Channel Rd.  It's been a while since some of these lads have had the pleasure (and sense of worth) in the drivers seat, some may say we'd taken the soft option but there'd be more than just a shift or two on this lap.  It was Dalts' once a fortnight fling on the road bike (seems Zwift and an MTB have skewed his senses and ruined his ride religion), Lance still strobing the tail light that could cause convulsions, Temple still on tempo despite retreating from regular rides and Superman seems recovered from 'round the bay.   Vince was keeping the caboose company after his week of gastric upheaval, the wind (forgotten in Channel Rd) now making it's presence felt to the portside in Boundary Rd.  Plans were already underway to single file that long twelve k's west leg to town.

I took the first shift of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to the bridge, this Indian filed routine taking the pressure off matching someone alongside and leaving the length of the drive up to the one driving it. Not exactly social though.  Dalts did a U-turn to collaborate with the Cats, Vince now drawn out of the caboose comfort to join Temple, Lance, MyRideTrev and Superman putting in their two bob's worth.  I'll admit to peeking rearward expecting to see the A team chasing but the view was an empty road.  Another round of turns got us into town (pleased there was no talk of shortcutting via Verney Rd), all willing to work into Wanganui Rd.  A sprint was off the agenda (given the circumstances), there was enough huff and puff to the hill, a real gift to turn away from the headwind and drive the Boulevard (without inheriting a hernia) back to breakfast.  We'd seated and had orders placed as the A team arrived, kids careers, menus and coeliac disease kept the tongues tattling while celebrating Liam's birthday.

21/10  Way to start the day.
'Tis the season of "what to wear?" when the 'feels like' temperature goes under the microscope.  Bruce, Wozza, Kel, Col, Bo, Kreeky, Grumpy and PistolPete grouped at Archer's shop for the warm-up to the week, ten degrees had some braving short sleeves and knicks where others were wary in all winters' insulation.   Wozza and Pistol drove us east on Channel Rd as crimson tipped the eastern clouds to promise a scenic sunrise.  Col soldiers on despite the handbrake the holiday had bestowed on him (no sympathy for self inflicted wounds!), the weekends' drama of Liam's accident commanding the chat as we worked toward Boundary Rd.
Kreeky played kindly beside me to the Boundary Rd bridge but my tank was emptying nearing the fig farm, part two with Wozza would be trawling the depths to reach New Dookie Rd, even with a tailwind helping me. The pond gets steadily bigger for this little fish, and I ponder the possibility I'm handbraking the hurry (but I guess others are struggling just to hang on at this speed).  Supressing my gasps of recovery in their wake, Pistol and Wozz drove us up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, that vivid sun up a nice distraction from my distress.  Bruce was keen with speed on Ford Rd and I only joined the advance line again 'cause the caboose was considered a cop-out.

My number came up at the test track with Col but his shift was short, Wozza was the man to match up Mt. Wanganui and I was well worn getting there.  I turned inside out for that half k to Rudd Rd, then struggled to keep in the tow as Pistol and Wozza casually cranked along the three k length of the Boulevard at the same speed.  And there lies the real strength of this bunch. It supports all sorts of fish.

22/10  Gone Goat'n.
Slowly the mornings become milder and slowly more hibernators make their cautious comeback.  AvantiAndy, Joey and Dippa braved a lap with the part-timers Belly, JB and Phil, they in turn mustered the muscle to join the warriors of winter, Tina, Hommie, Sandy and Snow.

Joey instantly elevated his status with a strong first drive to Grahamvale Rd, Tina silencing any chat to Tamburo Rd where Snow took the reigns.  My turn came up in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd where, mindful of Belly's protocol on pace ('don't be a cockhead Foss!'), I went easy on the accelerator to the main eastern channel.  The fellowship of the 5:40 fling shot west on their craving for caffeine while Dippa drove for what he was worth to Boundary Rd.  Hommie faced the breeze on the spin south and at the rear as I studied those signs of struggle at the front that make such interesting reading.
The 'headal' ; when the skull takes the role of the feet that just won't provide the push anymore.  The seat squirm ; when quads burn and you shift forward to hammer the hamstrings in search of some sort of relief.  The cog swap ; The shift for a ratio that takes the pain away yet maintains the prior pace. (and guess what, there ain't no such gear!)  

The bottom bracket gaze ; Is it to look away from the hightening heart rate, the falling speed or that target set too far beyond, or maybe the hope that glaring at your feet make them go faster? As if!  Of course it's the elbow twitch and the shoulder drop that signs the shifts' end, there's no oxygen to spare to acknowledge the "good job", "great turn" (or if you're lucky, "animal" or "machine!") the others call as they pass by, you're just dredging the depths of pain to catch the tail and hope the heart recovers.  So many scream these signs when on duty in the drivers seat, yet some (Pistol Pete the obvious one) have the knack to disguise that distress.  But I digress.....  I snapped out of my thesis when handed the helm by Snow as he reached Channel Rd, an aim at One Tree Dam would do as my fair share, just as the sun hurdled the horizon.  Turns out I'd timed my turn to a tee, sitting in the draft for River Rd's six k length as others did their bit.  Both Joey and Tina were takers for the shortcut to town, just a hint of a breeze behind making the last six k's sweet.

23/10  Grumpy's Garmin getaway.

Like buzzards circling something dead in the desert, led's lapped the streets surrounding the starting grid in the hope of a perfect position. I'd arrived a little early (yeah yeah, there's little blue tablets for that!) so Rocket, Trav,  Superman, Tina, TrekTrev, BamBam, Wozza, Boof, Kel, Col, PistolPete, Bo, Kreeky, Bruce and Shorty lined up behind.  Yup, first shift for Foss!  
Traffic split the carpark exit so Kel, Tina and I enjoyed a sedate spin toward Sanctuary's roundabout (collecting Grumpy-come-lately, u-turning at the bridge) while the bunch played catch-up.

BamBam wold have just loved the chase on his first ride back.  Speed settled into the comfortable mid thirties when seventeen finally formed, speed still sedate (unusually) along Mitchell Rd and through Central Kialla.  Grumpy's Garmin did a dismount at River Rd's bridge so the pack slowed to Laws drive before halting as the search party got underway.  

With the expensive escapee back in custody the ride resumed up River Rd, seemingly smooth and steady on the restart but a bolt for Bruce and the tail-enders. The slingshot was strong accelerating into Boundary Rd, a few eyes watching the caboose for cracks appearing.

  Two long lines promised a long time till duty called at the pointy end, finding that mid thirties pace quite a quandary....till Bo got excited in the drivers seat.

Tempo tamed in Channel Rd (turn back the clock a few years when Wednesday's lap was a lazy one) though some were resolute in remaining at the rear.  Promotion toward the front wasn't a worry with that smooth draft dragging me along, and it looked like I'd face the front at the ChaCha till Wozza let loose at Hopeful corner.  A long thin row hung on to the hurry and a podium place looked likely at Prentice Rd till Boof did his cork-out-of-a-bottle routine.    



24/10  Thursday's therapy.

The weather warms and a raft of rides pop up on the morning radar (Hares, TrekTrev's tap, FDC's, the 5:40 fling, Wannabees, Goats, Cats etc) but with a long lap on my Sunday agenda Goats were Thursday's thearpy.  Head Goat flew by (well, above 28 km/h) the Verney Rd roundabout trying a two minute head start but Coggo, Belly, Tum, Dippa, Tina, Snow and JB formed for the six a.m. flagfall.  Berthing first put me on the first shift to Grahamvale Rd, slowly squeezing the accelerator to foster friendships and earn Belly's blessings.  Snow's speed spiked seeing Head Goat huffing and puffing just ahead, gathering him into the caboose at the bridge where JB (aboard the pristine Pinarello) drove to Boundary Rd, spreading the scent of Mr Sheen behind him.

Dippa slogged the southbound leg to New Dookie Rd, just a hint of a northeaster enthusing me to drive to the Fig Farm before handing over. (Ooops! Head Goat gone o.t.a. to plod that pondering pedal home.....again)   Coggo's shift was short, smooth and swift as usual but not as determined in distance we've come to expect, Tum tapping the turn from the bridge to the Pub.  Just nineteen days since the drama of darkness befell us turning our clocks ahead and already the sun's up half way 'round the circuit.  How delicious that vitamin D is on motivation (and how soon the grizzles will grow about the heat).  Just rewind thoughts to those miserable months of winter folks!  Dippa's elbow spelt another turn for me at the quarter horse stud, careful with the tempo as that smooth tarmac hummed the wheels beneath me.  I passed the driving duty to Coggo at the bridge, that k of recovery in the draft the perfect tonic for my solo tap homeward.

25/10  Balmy, blustery & badass!

There was plenty of "yeah, nah, but" over breakfast as a nasty northerly (30-61 km/h) rattled the resolve (and the tin fence) but a balmy 27 degrees and Rule #9 beckoned me to board the Baum.  When the going gets tough you can count on PistolPete, Boof, Bruce, Tina and GiantAndy to face the music, but Bruce had arrived in aero mode (helmetless) so hightailed home for his hat.  GiantAndy got chains onto little cogs to Sanctuary's roundabout (David Bowie's "We can be heroes, just for one way"), mindful that the roads were strewn with little sticks and branches.  Boof enjoyed the high thirties with a low heart rate (just as we all did) but the work north would be a different story.

I had the captains chair to Mitchell Rd where PistolPete took charge, the wind howling at the left flanks spreading us across the tarmac for cover.  Tina sat silent at the back as GiantAndy played warrior into the wind at 37 clicks, how handy that horsepower was to us dodgers in the draft!    Bruce, bestowed with brain bucket, arrived from his shortcut to share in the suffering, River Rd resembling Armageddon with wind and now rain pummelling from the portside.  Careful not to overlap wheels as we were flung about the road, dust now blew from the open fields near Laws Drive veiling the view ahead.

Boof drove us to the Angora Farm for my suffering to start, the longer my River Rd shift the better the chance to avoid Boundary Rd's head-on hurt.  I needn't have bothered, PistolPete and GiantAndy bolted into it at 38.  Freaks!  GiantAndy headed homeward when we turned into Channel Rd,  Bruce with the bit betwixt his teeth (to my legs lament) but his target was catching Snow, Joe (not James) and The Machine (the only others out and about to take on the tempest) at Beckham's bend for a friendly tap back to town, my legs still liquorice from the labour.  (Thanks for the tow north Boof)

Week 43:  277km                            YTD 10,951km