Week 32 : Preventing performance anxiety

Post #460

4/8  The comeback kids.

Surprise starters to Saturday's soiree included Liam and Travis (from a huge hinterland holiday), Kel (completely cute in cool kit) and Bo (a comeback from a kangaroo calamity 20 weeks back).  Bruce, Rocket, not-so-newAvantiJohn, TatPaul, TrekTrev, PistolPete, Mark, Nev, CatCol and Trish were just as welcome to share the effort of 55k's before breakfast, Rocket heading the hurry out of town.  A light breeze blew from somewhere behind (4 different opinions on it's origin) as two rows formed toward the roundabout, social updates bouncing from side to side while two at the front silently sliced through the Archer Rd atmosphere.  I was feeling fairly fuzzy for my first turn in River Rd (Nev and CatCol are quick quarry), but there's no shame in shortening a shift (better than the bedlam of a blow-up at the business end).  I could almost smell Spring coming as light lit the eastern horizon (just 27 days away but who's counting!), we'd caught Superman on a early reconnaissance at the dip as Travis and not-so-newAvantiJohn moved forward for their lead roles.  It was a northeaster that made it's presence felt as we steered north into Boundary Rd, composed enough now to be social now with Liam, Pistol and TatPaul en-route to the highway.

A mechanical malignment halted Liam at Boundary Rd's pig pen so Bo (with backside bothers) took tools to his saddle to shift his sit. (or was the tight kit causing the discomfort?)  The order is never restored on the restart, and I found myself sandwiched between Pistol and Rocket and out of my depth, but in a league of gentlemen. Out to the Toaster and up to the Big Ring and wary of the workload taking the front seat, I reminded myself that Rocket and Pistol don't bite, I just needed to shorten my shift at their speed and suck up the feeling of inadequacy.  Just two Cats eastbound crossed our path west, a severe concrete deficiency in the other Cats diet it seems.

The few puddles in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd meant bike cleaning duties for many, speed now spicy in the rush craving coffee. The caboose was filling with permanent residents in Ford Rd (TrekTrev, Superman, Bo and Kel all on a Verney Rd shortcut course)  as I was called over to the upline, being gradually graduated to the gruelling end the closer we got to Ford Rd's end.  This was going to hurt!

Nev judged a flashing red led ahead in Wanganui Rd to be the world's brightest bike light, but reaching the water treatment plant a flashing blue one partnered it, as we found the road regrettably closed (Police accident investigation squad on the scene of a fatal was somewhat solemn)  We u-turned to take a new course via Numurkah Rd to the Lemontree, Nev possessed with pace to reach breakfast at warp speed.  CatCol's calories, smooth and swift drivers and km's per annum was the talk tabled with the foot faction Jen and Leah and the denizens of dirt  MyRideTrev & Cougar.

6/8  Peacemeal.

A little Lemnos loop started the week well, a breeze was blowing at the brow but speed wasn't as slack as expected driving through the damp of Ford Rd.   The NNW'er worked at the willpower back to town too, 85 rpm getting me to Friars in time to find Sandy, Heady, Phil, Coggo and Brendy berthing for the 6am ritual.   You-know-who captained the crew to Doyles Rd, I carefully added three clicks to the cruise control for my lead to Dobson's estate (mindful of the peace train protocol) but it clearly wasn't enough as Sandy sped to Central Ave.   Coggo cemented that standard to School Rd, Brendy baulking at the drivers seat and retracted to the rear seat (too much subsiding and not enough riding?)   Phil did a solid shift to reach Boundary Rd where Heady scored the pleasure of a tailwind to the fig farm.  I'd made a note of the previous pace and did the diplomatic drive to the highway, careful not to get greedy and hog all the breeze behind.  Sandy and Brendy were sitting out the lap now as four forwarded to River Rd.  Heady opened the River Rd account, the west northwester handbraking his hurry, handing me the reigns as the tarmac smoothed for River's 2nd k.  Overdue for a long shift, I stuck the head down and turned the determination up toward the dip, but tick tick tick tick BOOM! went Brendy off the back.  Coggo's captaincy cranked on to the bridge and after Phil's fine finish of River Rd I was still searching for oxygen and facing the windy way home alone.  Preserving the scant resources left for Archer Rd went well till I turned north, legs were like licorice labouring the 4k's back to town with the wind wearing away what wattage was left.  A slowly deflating tyre rubbed salt into the wind-whipped wounds, prayers were offered to St Michelin, fingers crossed and a lot of luck got me to my driveway just as the rim kissed the road.

7/8  Out with the new and in with the old.
A west northwester had blown the roads dry for my early edition on Tuesday, a solo sought for the sake of change.  I should have set a north / south course to keep the wind at my side but that tailwind euphoria was too tempting.  So I went out with the New Dookie Rd buoyed by the breeze, Mavic's symphony of carbon in C sharp playing on the ten k's of tarmac (a good serve of  headwind hurt home would firm up a softening attitude!) Reaching the church and turning south to the Toaster posed the question, what the hell was I thinking?, the wind whipping the wheels to give me a WobblyTrev trajectory. Chin on the headstem and spinning like a mixmaster (well, 87 rpm) it was in with the Old Dookie Rd aiming at the distant orange glow of the city's street lights, at least some cadence turned on the internal heater against the 'feels like' minus point two.  Strangely, big slices of the 10k's home went missing as the mind meandered on thoughts of the pain and suffering the cast of hibernators will face on their Spring comebacks, and September's winds will welcome them with avengance!

9/8  Fog fest.
A million microscopic water drops floated in the CatEye's beam, fog had filled Thursday's morning to veil my vision on a Congupna course at stupid o'clock (inflicted with insomnia).  Preventing performance anxiety of a sluggish start, focus was fixed on the damp tarmac and away from the Garmin, though the erratic h.r. readout (207 to 138 and back up again) was a distracting annoyance.
The old engine had eased up to speed by Radio Australia, fingers on a workout wiping away the fog's soft focus to keep Congupna's cityscape clear.  The smooth surface of Grahamvale Rd raised the tempo and lowered the stress, soaking up the solitude southbound but soaking up the fog felt like pushing through porridge.   The fog seemed thicker back in town, my roll to Friars finding just Phil at 5:57.  Praise be to Tum, Coggo, Heady and Belly for swelling the squad to six, sharing the load in 0.6 degrees was better than suffering it solo.  Heady handballed his usual role of running us out of town, Tum electing me to direct the Dobson's drive.  Belly had set the key performance criteria at painless, so I guessed at a smooth 36 to the bridge, peeled off and found favour from five for the drive.

Tum took the tempo to Cenral Ave and beyond the coolstore, passing the captaincy to Coggo, Phil faded a little at School Rd but Belly bored on to Boundary Rd performing an overture to the fig farm.  Heady's first shift started swift but slowly sank in speed by the pig pen (at least he was having a go and not clinging to the caboose), his elbow quickly showing me the drivers seat.  Over the bridge and a squishy sensation was dismissed as psychosis, but by the highway a marshmallowing Michelin was making its mark, a puncture had ruined my ride.  Honouring Rule #83 (be self sufficient) and rather than holding up the hurry, I beckoned the boys onward minus me, gingerly u-turning to limp back to the Pub, a street light would be my assistant in the pit stop for repairs.  Don't you hate it when nothing is found piercing the tyre! A second look and feel found nothing, so a tube and CO2 was gambled in hope, fingers crossed (when thawed) and the Midland highway made my way home.    


10/8  Windecent exposure.

All fun and flippancy before the flogging on Friday, a northeaster (gusting to 35 km/h) blew the bunch (Kel, Cate, Boof, Superman, Kreeky, Bruce, PistolPete, Bo, CatCol, Pelly, BamBam and Nev) southward on Archer Rd, the oncoming and u-turning Godfather missing the train (a mechanical mayhem?).  The up-line filled quickly with those keen for a tail-wind turn, I was stuck in the down-line but sat socially satisfied ; Boof's back from a couple of casual climbs of Alp d'Huez, CatCol's km craving continues and BamBam's on comeback number 23 by my reckoning. The turn into Mitchell Rd and into the boisterous breeze brought on a gnashing of teeth, a furrow of the brow and making an appointment with a therapist on why we do this.   I'd been lucky scoring the sheltered side of the bunch to Central Kialla, the change to the up-line and northbound turned up the toil, but hey, Pelly, Superman and Cate had lined up for punishment at the front, so why shouldn't I?  BamBam and Kel had courted company in the caboose, we turned east onto River Rd and I'd edged closer to the front, Superman's speed slowly sagging toward the dip as Cate rolled across to spare him the suffering.  500 meters later and I was donating the draft for Cate, Bruce now my co-captain as we nosed into the northeaster.  My turn was toast by the quarter-horse stud, kind kudos from Pistol as he paired with Bruce to bore on toward Boundary Rd.  Bo's turn was brief (and wasn't he reminded of it!) as I rolled to the windward side for the leg north.  Only two Goats pounded the train of pain south, we were treated to a tow by CatCol, Boof and Nev for the 3k's to Channel Rd where that sweet silence of the breeze behind blessed us.  Superman had retired to the rear and wheels hummed of the hurry to the cypress trees, lucky me had drawn the short straw of the headwind leg to the Kinder! The drive to Central Ave had some shelter but the northern stretch hurt, hopes of reaching the sweeper were swept away when the legs said quit. With just enough to catch Bruce's draft it was hang on to Hopeful corner, Nev and Boof bolting away for ChaCha honours, most folk feeling fantastic the fast & furious had finally finished.          

Week 32     206km          YTD 8,535km