If my legs would let me.

Post #541
5/4  Sun day

It's normally treated as sabbath, but Saturday's saturation turned the regular rest day into a ride one.  The craving was keen after one day off.  A change to eastern standard time had gifted earlier daylight so I slackened the standard six am start time to lap up the lumens.  Reversing Saturday's circuit was an easy decision, not just for the different direction but because the northerly (18-30 km/h) would murder me tackling it anti-clockwise.  The intro to the headwind out to the golf course wasn't so bad so the east drive on Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd's put comfort in the cranium.  The hard stuff would be the 10 k's home.  The sun was up early to show scenery long forgotten, haven't we been kept in the dark of a morning for the last couple of months! A house or two with a new coat of paint, a missing orchard, a fence burnt here and a car wreck there.....some on the improve and others sliding backward.  I found myself in that comfort zone of zone 3 (144-156 for me), maybe it's a self preservation thing to go the distance?  The sun was giving only psychological warmth in 9 degrees yet I'd stuck to short knicks and fingerless gloves, as if to lengthen summer? With the wind behind the spin south to the Toaster was silent, a fight to steer a straight line in Old Dookie Rd then more serenity along Boundary and Coach Rd to psych up some steam for River Rd.

The willow still clings to One Tree Dam's island, there's a new house being built to the east and the Rooster strutted his stuff as I slowed for the west work in River Rd.  Distant bike headlights gave some credence to cranking k's in the cold, a little closer and the familiar faces of Bo and Kel came into view (a couple of weeks socially separated from bike buddies seems an eternity).  Delivered at a distance the greet was brief, focus shifting to the short spin through Central Kialla before the chore north in Archer Rd.  There was a brief g'day to Axel rolling out on his solo spin, Mitchell Rd soaked in thought therapy to conquer Archer Rd's aggravation.  Speed was of little consequence, it was finding the best gear to cope with that wind that mattered, spinning at 90 rpm seemed to stop the legs burning and make the effort easier.  The promised Lemontree breakfast (albeit take-away) kept the urge on the boil back to town, the wind all the while trying to blow me backward.  Again, the eerie emptiness of the cafe's footpath highlighted the strange state we're in, the comfort of a long black and a brekkie wrap dissolving all dramas.

6/4  Suffering soliloquy.
A little course creativity put inspiration into Monday morning.  With bunches still banned I'd need something to entertain enthusiasm. West was the way to keep Foss amused although the southwester wasn't so welcome, McIssac Rd toward Ardmona was at least a different stretch of tarmac to tap.

The Ardmona-Merrigum Rd stretched to the horizon, my decision on direction weighing heavily on my heart rate as the wind whipped between the orchards to squash the speed (saying to self ; it had better swing to a westerly for the way back home).   They say the first sign of madness is talking to yourself , but who cares with not a soul in earshot!  (is that why the cows look at me strange?) As pre-dawn light hit the horizon, a feeling of running late kept my cadence keen as I searched for the Tatura-Undera Rd by the reflection of it's intersection sign.  South toward the lights of Tatura and the wind did it's best to break me, thank my lucky legs there was only 5 k's of cruelty to reach the highway.  Adrenalin fuelled the 10 k's of tempo back to Mooroopna, mixing it with the commuters while eyes were peeled for the roadside garbage kept senses sharpened. The snap, crackle and pop of gravel over the emergency lane (scattered from the traffic's tyres), then a satisfying hum on the hotmix closer to town while vacuumed along in the draft of the occasional truck (professionally passing).  A pleasant end to the effort earlier. And a variety to the usual views.

7/4  Soak'n up serenity and sunrises, socially separated.
Motivation must be as rare as a Trump truth when Strava's starved of your mates usual posts.  Or have most resorted to secret training? Nah, sorry, Zwift doesn't count (reality rules ok?)  Creating courses has been the bait to get me out of bed at stupid o'clock lately, Tuesday's plan to plot a path to the quarry and back.  I even changed the first leg to head out via Kittles Rd, that golf course opening salvo has become blase'.   I settled into a rhythm on Ford Rd, missing the bunch banter but soaking up the serenity was sweet.  There were thoughts of nana saying 'count your blessings' as the sky set up a super sunrise, being allowed outdoors in these pandemic times was a blessing in itself.
 Hey, that eerie silence (without The Godfather's garble) was worth bottling!  I'd aimed at 45 minutes out and 45 back to stay employed, guessing I'd reach the quarry by 6:10 if my legs would let me.  The guesswork was good rolling past Boral's hole in the Cosgrove ground, enough gravel on the tarmac to tighten the sphincter as an aid to staying upright.  That fraction of westerly in the south southwester made work for the way home though the smoothness of the C364 offered little resistance to rolling.  (now I've praised that section of road they'll probably reseal it tomorrow in coarse stone!)The sky lit up behind to make the work worthwhile (how's the texture in those clouds) but being starved of social sentences is starting to take it's toll. Time took sympathy on my speed arriving at Lemnos on schedule, a couple of tows from passing trucks getting me home at 7 sharp.


8/4  The tap to Tally.

Victoria Rd was hidden somewhere along here.  Finding it was the challenge in the dark.  And that's what puts spice into a solo spin.  It's hardly the stuff of Burke and Wills, Lawson or Wentworth, but without the bunch to buoy the mood, at least a mystery tour gets you out of bed.  The southerly had propelled 10k's of the Katamatite Rd and finally the Cat-eye illuminated the east west strip of Victoria Rd, it was time to harden up and face the wind after 15k's of cruising.  A big yellow moon hung just above the trees, it's light showing the puzzled stares from resting cows while I aimed at the Tallygaroopna metropolis.  Some of it's 579 inhabitants were up and about but the reality of the headwind home and it's labour on lungs and legs was now my focus.  A couple of southbound trucks dragged me into the low 30's for a moment but the disappointment of high 20's soon returned as their tail-lights drew into the distance.  At last I'd made it to Zeerust Rd (my escape for a few minutes of recovery facing west), though the 5k's hurt of the headwind south on the Shepp Rd lay ahead.  The price you pay for creative courses!   What the head wanted and what the legs would deliver became a widening divide after a 4 k's, the last time labouring this length of tarmac was in 34 degrees (the Cider Ride 6 weeks ago), quite the contrast!  With velocity vanishing rapidly, reaching Nathalia Rd was a relief, back to the highway fifteen minutes ahead of schedule allowed a Wanganui Rd leg home.  I'd found JB lapping the Boulevard so it was great to chat a minute alongside, 2 metres distant of course. So why did I feel like a corona criminal?

9/4  Riding random routes.
Mapping a different daily course has become a challenge (something's needed to spike the enthusiasm in these testing times), there's plenty of roads to ride but time is my ever present enemy.  Isn't it criminal when work gets in the way of a decent lap!

 A dash across the causeway shook the metabolism into motion, my course set for Ardmona today in the desire for a different direction.  Between wire rope barrier and tactile edge-lining, I threaded the needle along the Midland highway, all quite comfortable with barely a handful of cars passing.  Ardmona Rd was found to be peaceful and deserted, and propelled by a breeze up the bum bearing north.  Fruity fragrances of apple, pear and peach in these parts certainly beats the bunch smell of sweaty armpits (and other bodily functions better left unsaid!), though I could do with a whiff of the peloton's conversation and camaraderie to lift the spirits (and my average average speed!)  Daybreak seemed sluggish glancing to the east, not even a week into eastern standard time and the darkness is closing in already (9 minutes of light lost in just 5 days!), the sun seemingly slipping into self isolation too.  North Mooroopna seemed a long time coming, eventually lights of the little school showing the turn for home was close.  Effort escalated on Echuca Rd, self strangely satisfied there was work to do, stops that softening starting.  A very subtle sunrise was a disappointment (spoilt by Tuesday's spectacular?), the rough edge of the road smoothing to hotmix to hurry me into Mooroopna.  With light filling the sky, the empty shared path back to Shepp was judged a safer bet, at least wildlife could be seen beyond the length of the headlights' beam.

10/4  Obeying obsessions.

The forecast wasn't flash but Friday's reality said ride, a dull grey day with damp on the track wasn't going to obstruct my obsession.  Local tracks were back on the menu to cure the craving for k's and tick Strava's 100,000km box.  (let's not ponder the 130,000 pre Strava k's shall we?)  Only one car was using my Knight St exit of town (even then he couldn't keep his big fat 4x4 rear view mirror out of the bike lane), otherwise Old Dookie Rd had only mist (from last nights 1.4mm)  to contend with.  Oh, and my lack lustre speed!  How we are humbled away from the draft of a bunch!  (Blaming that damp air as a handbrake is in chapter 16 in the Book of Excuses).   Refer Rule #5.   With one big turn at the front ahead, speed settled into survival mode to Boundary Rd, finding one sole headlight northbound fixed that feeling I was Robinson Crusoe.

With only the odd snail and worm (fractionally slower than me) as competition south of the Pub, I could claim tete de la course, hearing the familiar 'cock-a-doodle' turning west into River Rd I found another empty length of tarmac to tap.  Frogs croaked their good mornings and a Kookaburra cackled (at my speed?), this isolation thing is slowly testing what sanity's left!   River Rd finished faster than expected, Central Kialla asleep, the west way on Mitchell pondering the path home.    With just two missions (clocking the 100,000 and the lust for a long black as a reward) I turned for town up Archer Rd, I'd pulled the short straw for work today but 10 minutes spare allowed a caffeine fix.

This week 270km        YTD 2,194km.