The Covid cannon-fire.

 Post #613

21/8 Sat'dy seven.

Rolling solo to Saturday's ride was strangely serene.  Just a k or so slower was surreal too! (I might need a few watts in reserve to keep up should the heavy duty horsepower turn up at the start-line)  Several of the regulars, close contacts with a Covid hotspot that had quickly surfaced in town were now out of the line-up and isolating, so Saturday's grid could be a luck-of-the-draw.  I'd be playing rushin' roulette today.  How odd to find Sanctuary's roundabout minus PistolPete, but Bruce was a most suitable stand-in.  GiantAndy, Lenny, Greg, The Godfather and Grumpy made up the squad, not too heavy on horsepower and full of moral fibre (just to keep me regular?)  Six a.m. set us south and forth in the (Indian) file bought me some time to prepare for the huff and puff to come. 

With his eye on keeping the crew intact, Bruce took us to Mitchell Rd and handed the role to reach Central Kialla to GiantAndy, the big diesel's torque adding a couple of k's to the tempo (I'm sure he can't help it!)  Lenny's leniency on pace to River Rd put a bit more oxygen in my bank, bless his little black socks - I was up next with sights on reaching River Rd's bridge.  Content I'd quickly measured up to the previous pace, now the task was to go the distance.  No pressure though Foss, two k's to go and the hope that those behind didn't fall asleep!  It was a relief crossing the bridge two and a half minutes later, the old engine was on the red-line and threatening to blow a gasket.  Greg was kind enough to keep tempo so I'd catch the last wheel.  A few foggy patches reminded us all that winter was still with us but that earlier light on the horizon is heart-warming (didn't make four degrees feel warm though)  

Greg towed us to the dip where The Godfather took charge, determination (or maybe just plain pig-headedness?) driving him on the three k's to rooster corner.  (I could hear the cries of "Mercy!" from the Merida's 11 tooth sprocket)  Coach Rd was Grumpy's domain and being midfield eased the workload of holding the wheel ahead, that tsunami effect at the back out of corners can catch the wary (or those weak on wattage).  Grumpy's start was considerate.  Bruce was back at the business end crossing the Midland and already I was predicting / planning  my second act ; if only to distract thoughts on the weather /  the next electricity bill / when the nanobots in my second vaccination will be activated by the new world order!   Past Old Dookie Rd's pork palace (oh, the pungency to come when the weather warms!) in GiantAndy's delightful draft, then Lenny's tow to the Pine Lodge church and beyond, it was odds on I'd score the first westward shift on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.   That's good ; I reckoned there was just a hint of a northeasterly to help with my hurry.  

The lights of three Cats (Wow! That's commitment!) at Woolshed Rd was something to aim at and it felt good to get up to pace the others seem to cruise at (though did setting that target create a cranial constraint?  The tank felt empty getting there!)  I wasn't about to enlist a sports psychologist to explain, a team of therapists are flat out treating a bike addiction!  Lenny had a sinking sensation nearing Lemnos North Rd so the halt while he dealt with the deflation was a welcome intermission.  Despite Grumpy's grizzle about the length of the repair, we were back in business along Ford Rd without a lot of delay.  

GiantAndy was tasked with the work on Wanganui Rd and did the duty to DECA, Lenny's speed sinking on his aim at Mt.Wanganui due to that dismal CO2 pressure.  Enthusiasm elevated on the Boulevard as breakfast at the Butter Factory begged, hand-made bikes, Covid criminals and baiting Bo the stuff of social sustenance.  

24/8  Solitary confinement.

Motivation wouldn't pull the skin off a rice pudding on Tuesday. The state had been thrust back into a Covid caused lock-down and that five k leash was back to restrain rides.  Bunch riding was banned and a bone chilling south southwester blew more negatives my way, but the regret of not riding would ruin me.  Monday's showers had only made the craving stronger.  Maybe a random route would inject some inspiration? (It would avoid dealing with the dizziness that multiple laps bring on)   Traffic's rarely a bother at stupid o'clock (as long as they're awake at the wheel) but the Covid restrictions seemed to have halved the metal boxes travelling the streets.  There's a strange sense of freedom choosing the direction at the drop of a hat (don't attempt that in a bunch!), a whim steering me south onto the Boulevard and east onto Knight but that south southwester made a convincing argument to turn the nose north.  

Progress had a far more pleasing pace on Verney though that leash would soon pull tight ; it was time to do the work west.  Just a k on Ford ('cause west on Wanganui unlocks too many demons!) then south through the middle of town was about as random as the regulations would allow.  The wind made thirties a thrash (there was quite a traffic jam for the nutritional time-bomb at the Scottish restaurant) down to Sobraon where weakness turned me east.  It felt a little aimless going this way and that, though it's gotta be better than laying on the couch eating Cheezels off your fingers!  (That fear of losing form from just taking yesterday off means there's issues)  West on Balaclava then a clockwise golf course loop gobbled up the last of the free time, a little shy on the usual distance but there's satisfaction just turning the wheels round.

25/8  Southern circlin'.

Dreaming up different circuits is about all that's left to enthuse a ride, the value of a bunch as a motivation magnet is worth even more in these crazy Covid times of lock-downs and restrictions.  For want of a better direction, south was on my agenda for Wednesday, and although a south southwester was against me, I was relying on a tail-wind home.  There's the curse of kangaroos on Raftery Rd so the CatEye's 1700 lumens were unleashed to scatter any loitering, the wind in the face raising an effort (with the heart-rate attached) to keep some sort of reasonable progress.  

It's Strava's fault, opening you up to scrutiny.  Getting to Galbraith's gate should have been the end of the effort but there was plenty of pain to get to Roubaix corner before the reward came.  East to Archer Rd was spent calculating if time allowed a second circuit but a couple of laps of Kialla's lakes would be a safer bet to keep to the agenda.   How weird to see Sanctuary Drive empty and there was a foreign feeling to work my way on Wendouree up to the lakes, the streets almost deserted with so many now confined to quarters.  I had a glass-half-full feeling seeing light in the sky at six, circling the southern lake to figure eight the northern one, then steer south again.  Two red leds way ahead  couldn't trigger a chase, arriving at the next roundabout they'd disappeared anyway!   One last lap and time beckoned me homeward, the main street just lacking a few tumbleweeds to complete a ghost town picture.

26/8  Sufferin' southerly's.

Sitting sends you soft! I've learned that filling the breakfast tank is better done standing.....seeing "feels like zero" and a stiff southerly on the weather observatory while seated comfortably in the favorite chair only festers a hundred excuses to take up the Wouldabeens winter training program of crawling back to bed!  I've been lucky to avoid the Covid cannon-fire that's kept many in their bunkers, so I should seize the day to squeeze the k's in.  So where to today Foss?  A road less traveled would stimulate the senses and relieve me of those mind numbing  k on the same old same old circuits.  East to Lemnos then north to Congupna would make a change even though that southerly would pay me back with pain all the way home.  Like Malcolm said (fifty years and thirty six days ago!) "Life wasn't meant to be easy".  That's well before e-bikes proved it could be very easy.    I'll admit it was easy on Lemnos North Rd with the breeze right up the back door, what it'd be like headed the other way on Grahamvale Rd made me conserve some jelly beans to Congupna.  Mr. Pessimist had conjured thoughts of an agonizing mid twenties speed on Jubilee and Katamatite Rd's but I was pleasantly surprised to keep thirties on the screen, so it seemed Grahamvale would be the stuff of nightmares once I'd navigated the urban sprawl of Congupna (population 616)    

Well, pickle my grandmother!, pace wasn't that bad steering south for the five k slog to Ford Rd.  Mind you, it needed cadence in the mid-nineties and a chin on the headstem to do it!  The passing draft from two B doubles was timely at the three k mark.  With a few breaths back in the bank along Ford Rd, a course was set via Verney then the highway for a bit more hurt to get home (not sure if it was the sadist or the masochist suggesting that?)    Football sized eruptions in the tarmac at the highway's edge (pavement pimples?) had the rear wheel airborne once or twice but generally the two metre wide verge is a safe haven from traffic (if only it were sometimes swept of the stones dislodged from the traffic's tyres)   Wanganui, Rudd and the Boulevard supplied the final suffering to get home and thaw out, sitting in that favorite chair sipping instant coffee (how I miss thee Butter Factory!) 

27/8  Lazybones laps.

Despite having both Covid vaccines I'd contracted a virus Friday morning....the lazybones variant that attacks velocity!  It's a sort of Monday-itis....on a Friday.  With no bunch to inspire pace and hardly a rider about to pair with, a sedate solo spin was figured to be a perfect prescription.  It would have been a great morning to put in a decent effort though, barely a breeze was blowing, but those little grey cells had already resolved to ride relaxed.   There was a short struggle to constrain that competitive corner in the cranium though, always wanting to see better than thirty on the Garmin has made a rod for my own back.  

Today the focus would be keeping a 130 lid on the heart-rate and ignoring the speed (hoping there'd be a new lease on speed tomorrow?)  Vaguely heading south, it was almost impossible to avoid the usual routes but the weight was off the shoulders without the urgency to get to a start-line on time. Down Archer has been done a million times but west on Broken River Drive was one from the history books. North via Welsford with Corio chosen as a curved ball north, heading back via Balaclava and the Boulevard was turning me into a travelling minstrel !  Hey, I could get used to this life below the limit.  There was a magnetism to tour the Kialla Lakes (if only to catch sight of a Couldabeens compatriot....if I could recognise one!) though four degrees was beginning to chill.   A higher speed would get the old engine running at a higher temperature! Home time, to warm to instant coffee!

This week 190km     YTD 8,845km