Motivation ; the missing link.

Post #539
21/3  The isolation indifference.

It takes more than a pandemic to plug the passion of the possessed, so it was no surprise to find a fairly full grid ready for the spin south at six.  Tina, KillkennyPaul, Lance, Boof, TatPaul, Shorty, Rocket, Determined Dan, PistolPete, Softa, Bruce, GiantAndy, MyRideTrev, SuperMario, Grumpy and Vince had formed two lines behind Molly and Steve who'd berthed first, but they'd shied from the pole positions (it's that fear of the front that's the virus to be worried about!)  Playing a martyr to masochism, I took the drivers seat into that lovely south southwester (17-22 km/h) for the first shift toward Sanctuary's roundabout, the considerate GiantAndy co-piloting beside me at the city limits.  A rapidly depleting oxygen supply made me beckon GiantAndy to roll across just a bit shy of the roundabout, that headwind I figured a valid excuse for my shortfall.  Recovery was surprisingly rapid, by the truck route the social stuff was possible while far fitter engines drove the train to Mitchell Rd (pleased I wasn't too far off the pace prior).

Infection exposure was the chat with Col, TatMat's absence with Determined Dan, the depths of darkness with Rocket, speed derestriction with SuperMario and the week that was with The Godfather occupied the distance to River Rd.  A sudden hesitation at the front tsunami'd down the ranks to the rear, one shy pedal stroke at the pointy end translating to wheels rubbing and KillkennyPaul into to the gravel at the rear.  Highlights the importance of a smooth and straight standard at the front eh?  Catastrophe avoided, sphincters un-puckered and all still vertical, high 30's were resumed, the pressure off for me slipping down the ranks while nearly two dozen lined up for their moment of glory (or grief) at the front.  I wasn't rostered on till the kennels in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, Cats had cruised east (the work into the wind just around the corner for them) as I took the lead role with SuperMario to Boundary Rd then onward to serve with GiantAndy to the bridge.  That's that done! Recovery to enjoy now while hoping another turn wouldn't fall due.

Wanganui Rd was swift but without the tax of a sprint to the hill, Rocket taking charge in Rudd Rd to tear into town (payback for the prior pedestrian pace?) with bits breaking off the back of the bunch in the Boulevard.

My legs were like liquorice at Tarcoola's roundabout so it was easy to back off and lend a draft to KillkennyPaul, SuperMario and Superman in struggle street.  Docked at the Lemontree less than a minute in arrears, panic buying, staying smooth and straight and the devaluing dollar occupied the oratory over breakfast.

23/3 A social swansong?
I hadn't factored a slower speed into the 22-30 km/h southerly, so the 8 k's to the carpark was a trial of timing to arrive for the 5:45 Monday thing.  My rather breathless berth at the shop found The Godfather, Bo, Tina, Grumpy, Kel, Liam, PistolPete, Joe (not Tony) and Bruce ready to roll, a better than expected bunch given the imminent restrictions on gatherings.  This might be our social swansong for a while.  Riding solo  (or Zwift if you like sweat with static scenery) may be de rigueur for the foreseeable future.
Joining the back of the advance line to even up 5 pairs into Channel Rd, I'd lucked Kel's wheel for the promotion forward while The Godfather and PistolPete captained the crew.  Blinded by the bling of a sparkling cassette singled out Joe (not Tony) aboard a new bike, a disc braked Avanti almost Bianchi-like in colour.  PistolPete's Pinarello similarly sparkled, though the surrounding darkness might be to blame.  There's moments of focus on the wheel ahead when you're totally oblivious on location, but the moment you're in the drivers seat with that next roll-over point a spec the distance, you know exactly where you are.....a long way from respite!  Thanks to Kel's kindness and a little shelter from the pear trees, I survived the 1100 metre shift and slowed for the turn into Boundary Rd.  Relief....till acceleration north to the Pub.

The violation of Rule #86 by Joe (not Tony) was attributed to that new bike syndrome; no rattles, a purring chain and that perceived swiftness to justify the damage to the bank account.  Totally acceptable...for a week or so.  Grumpy's phone alarm and PistolPete's dismounting headlight slowed the rush north over the highway, that gentle roll in the high 20's for the crew to recongregate was most welcome, yet totally out of Monday's character. All were aboard again at Old Dookie Rd, resumption of the low 40's a sting I'd for a moment forgotten.  Due to a lack of lumens, PistolPete had taken charge of the caboose so the shuffle in order put me on Tina's wheel for the advance in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  And wasn't that southerly cutting a chill across our flanks.  The cadence comparison was chalk and cheese between The Godfather (top gear) and Bruce spinning on the 53/17 in Ford Rd, any wonder cramp was cramping The Godfather's style by Grahamvale Rd.   Bo and Grumpy kept the pace percolating, Kel and Tina co-captaining to the highway.  Thoughts of shying from my shift were quickly erased by rueing Rule #5, Tina's tempo was testing but a short shift is better than none at all, right?  My focus was fairly fuzzy by the water treatment plant, Liam kindly donating a draft at DECA, hanging on till Mt Wanganui about the limit of my labour.  So Bruce's bolt into Rudd Rd got me digging the depths of determination, going ota at this late stage wasn't in my script.  The possibility of this being the last post-ride coffee for a while must have spiked the speed along the Boulevard, so it was with jellied legs I took my exit at the Tarcoola roundabout.

24/3  Safely separated.
I'd set off on a golf course circuit almost conceding to a solo spin in light of the impending blanket on massed gatherings, but swung by Friars at 6 anyway to see what Goats may gather. What's App had been strangely silent.  Snow, Dippa, Heady and Coggo rolled in looking for a lap, safe distances respected as Heady set our exit from town.

A subtle southerly (9-11 km/h) had the temperature gauge just into double figures for my fisrt turn to Dobson's bridge, mid 30's guessed as the pace to please all.  Snow towed us to Central Ave and Dippa drove to School Rd, Coggo capably making it to Boundary Rd for us to turn into the wind.   Heady's body language spoke labour and his speed showed likewise, struggling to the Fig Farm where his elbow called surrender.  Despite my ever-so-gentle increase in pace, by the bridge Heady had self-isolated from the bunch (it sounds so much more dignified than 'spat out the arse' doesn't it?)   It's a Heady habit we've grown accustomed to, and knowing he'd find his way safely home (and come back for more next time), we continued.  I had Coggo's wheel to One Tree Dam and was given the job to reach River Rd, Snow must have missed my cue to take over on the turn west so I stayed on for another k. Hopes of gaining a draft to River Rd's end came to nought as Dippa withdrew from driving duty and took command of the caboose, Coggo had dragged us to Laws Drive and I was back on duty again. Over the bridge and my chance to catch a breath was fast disappearing, a couple more white posts and it was Snow's turn to toil and mine to bank some oxygen before the solo short-cut back to town.

25/3  TTT 101.
The urge to tap a lap with others is strong, keeping company at a distance just as impulsive.  I wasn't expecting any takers for a tap at the carpark on Wednesday but Laura, Joe (not Tony) and Steve surprised me lining up for 5:50 duty.  That southerly still blows and I still manage to score that long 3k first shift to the roundabout, at least considerate company will share the Indian file load.  Joe (not Tony) took part two to the truck route and looked to be planning a double shift to Mitchell Rd till Steve jumped the queue from the rear to captain the crew (he possibly hasn't read the KPI's for a team time trial formation)

A surge of speed showed his enthusiasm, continuing the lead role to Central Kialla.  An education in echelon and the ability to read the wind is a trade often ignored (unless you're at the rear and in the gutter to find a decent draft) and I guess it's early days for Steve yet to fully appreciate.  It wasn't my turn (but suggested Steve take a breather at the back) and took the reigns crossing Euroa Rd to steer a path in Mitchell Rd's centre so that others might delight in a draft.  It's all about Rule #3.  Joe (not Tony) and Laura followed suit to set a smooth standard, Steve now tied in to the team effort to polish off Mitchell so we could all soak up the tail-wind in Coach Rd. A hint of west in what was now a south southwester spread us across the left lane bound for the Broken bridges, Laura fully focussed on oncoming trucks almost missing the left turn into Channel Rd.  Speed see-sawed a bit on Steve's shift, an un-lit speedo probably to blame, Joe (not Tony) seeing the ChaCha coming into view turned up the tempo for a thrash as the finale.

26/3  Don't you just love the serenity!
Motivation is the missing link now that bunch riding is all but banned, the brag factor of clocking k's when others don't is about the only lure left (besides forging fitness and preserving a pinch of mental health)       12 degrees and that relentless southerly didn't help.

The consolation of setting my own course and speed was a good case for the affirmative and hey, no strict start time either!   Off into the wild black yonder of Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, I set sights on reaching the Big Ring (if I could see it in the dark) at Pine Lodge North Rd.   With my cruise control set on the crest of the cardiac Zone 3 ('cause there's no drafting when solo) I spun a somewhat serene 15k's east, save for those voices in my head and the hum of Michelins on the tarmac.  The worries of the world evaporated while engrossed in self propulsion but the wind woes surfaced turning south toward the Pine Lodge church.  That lazy 17-24 km/h southerly cut right through the base layer, inciting extra cadence as an internal heater.   Sadly the speedo still said sluggish....all that effort for no reward.   Time was kind to me arriving at Boundary Rd so I chartered a course via Channel Rd to town.  There was a bit more stress into that southerly for a few k's though a sheltered path west and a tailwind home made for an easy end to 40.

27/3  Doin' distancing duty.

At least there's still a modicum of motivation to rise at crazy o'clock and ride a few k's, that scourge of softness will soon be the pandemic 'cause going bunch-less just won't cut it for many.  My prayers had been answered as Friday's southerly softened to a breeze but I still mapped a course for a tailwind home. The streets were almost empty setting south, a rhythm found on Raftery Rd with darkness swamping the surrounds out of town (even the moon and stars had self isolated).  Accepting a sub-standard average is the reality of lapping solo (unless you're from the freakishly fast gene pool of Wozza, Rocket, Boof etc) so I was resolute riding in the lowest of 30's.  Mitchell Rd was easier on the effort, the point of exertion finely balanced in the quadrant of a pace that was fostering fitness / leaving enough in the tank to get home / loving (not loathing) the lap and preserving something for the 14,000 steps at work for the day.  Spinning through Central Kialla was strangely silent without the racket of 3 dozen wheels, constant conversation and The Godfather's cackle, the satisfying purr of the chain and hum of the wheels on the black stuff was a reasonable substitute though (easier on the ears too!)   An earlier arrival home appealed so the short cut via the truck route and Archer Rd got me back to base with the luxury of 10 minutes up my sleeve, beats that mad rush to ready for a day at the coal face.

This week  274km                 YTD 1,691km