Fitness.....or far from it.

 Post #565

26/9  Saturday's switcheroo.

Just a moment and a half away from stepping out the door and the rain started.  Feels like -1.8 and a west northwester at 26 km/h weighed in as rebuttals for the negative too. Saturday's ride was looking like a lost cause.  Hopes hung on the following few minutes that rain would retreat, the lust for lap and it's social sustenance being this junkie's meth.  But the drizzle continued, confirming cancellation.  Another coffee and a chapter of "Shut up legs" would be cheap consolation.  Salvation came soon after when What's App pinged, Tina suggesting a tap to Tat with Hoffy and the crew, an 8:30 start sounding most civilized.......if the weather behaved. 

A clear radar at 8 and the temperature approaching tropical (2 degrees) was game-on for me, so spun to the constabulary to find Chilly, Dazza, Minty, Tina, Hoffy and Ric keen to clock some k's.  This would be a change from the standard Saturday Couldabeens charge.  A sedate start on the shared path to Mooroopna sorted out an order (of sorts), the twisting route through town eventually finding the Echuca Rd exit (after Tina's puncture had been tended to)   There was work to do on the way west out of town, Hoffy and Chilly's turns had turned token and Minty had made the caboose a second home, so Tina, Dazza, Ric and I had the roles of tow truck on the crooked course to Tat.  (McIssac, Turnbull, Lenne, Ardmona, Simson, Craven and Ferguson about as twisted as you can get)   

Dazza played fair and Tina's as perfect pairing as you could get but Ric has graduated from the university of f u when it comes to riding alongside at the front.  Rule #86 violations on so many counts (as a guest in a bunch one sucks it up in silence).   Forgive them father for they know not what they do.  The wind had swung west southwest to provide a bit of variety, a few orchards remain though to offer a tad of shelter, eventually touring into Tatura where a mid-ride coffee took priority.  Well, that shook the ride ritual, but when in Rome.......

Media and politics was rather heavyweight chat at the Roma cafe but the urge to get back aboard when the cup emptied closed conversation, the return via Toolamba beckoned.  With hot coffee inside and feels like 4 outside, Dhurringile Rd had all the appeal of an appointment with the accountant, so at least the sun was shining as an incentive to drive into the southwester (yep, changed again).   

The way west on Toolamba-Rushworth Rd was in stark contrast, that wind at the rear inflating speed and ego's with it.  Ric's half-wheeling tripled (bite your tongue Foss!)   Six k's at a good speed (a little like David Bowie's song, if I can twist the lyrics a bit;  We can be heroes, just for one way) were followed by something a little more sedate beyond the Murchison Rd as Dazza and Chilly captained through Toolamba's metropolis, the lefts and rights of Bridge Rd steered before a dismount to cross the 100+ year old timber bridge (full of gaps) over the Goulburn.  (Ric rode it of course)  As usual, a short sprint followed the remount to catch the bunch.  The order reshuffled again, happier I'd slotted in between Tina and Dazza for the coarse course of Union Rd.  I must be hardening up, it didn't feel so rough.    With noses north on Central Kialla Rd, Hoffy took advantage of the wind behind to donate a drive, but his shift was short-lived, Chilly called to front up as windbreak on Mitchell Rd.  I wondered if Raftery Rd would be the course toward coffee but Archer Rd was chosen as the shorter way to town, many heading homeward via a zig-zagged course, but the Butter factory lured Tina, Minty and I.   'Twas an odd sensation to finish almost at noon, though pleased to have turned the tide on a damp and dismal beginning.

28/9  A fresh frolic.

Had I slept in and woken in June?  Feels like minus 1.3!  (Haul out the winter gloves and base layer again) That temperature didn't help the dose of Monday-itis but regret would ruin the day if I'd stayed in bed.  A southerly straight off the Antarctic did it's best to chill enthusiasm for the 20 minute spin to Sanctuary's roundabout but I'm sure the pace that PistolPete, Kreeky, Col, Bo, Kel and The Godfather would set should generate a little warmth.  Nothing against PistolPete or Bo, but I'd avoided their wheel to choose a tow less tortuous than their tempo, Kreeky's far more manageable for my Monday.  PistolPete's ritual role of first shift was considerately paced, legs tuned to the tempo when reaching the truck route.  Of course, Pistol powered on to Mitchell Rd. 

Bo kept us busy too driving to Central Kialla (or is it Kialla Central? Depends on the direction you approach it?), the breeze doing the business for Kel to captain us to River Rd as I inched (or should that be millimetre'd?) my way toward a turn at the front.   Kreeky kindly supplied the draft for River Rd's first leg, that half a metre descent off the bridge starting my turn on a positive.  Still spinning a reasonable speed at the dip (I can't recall erythropietin being in my Weet-Bix ingredients?)  I added an extra 300 metres to the shift (when you're on a good thing....) then handed Col the job so I could enjoy the sun-up without wrestling with a hernia.  For a fella that "didn't want to ride" he kept pace percolating till River Rd's end.   Bruce and Rocket appeared from the north (What? No other takers for their 5:40 flogging from the car park?) so they joined the tail as The Godfather varied velocity up to the highway. 

PistolPete presented himself to the front for seconds, that smooth speed making 40's fine, even for dilapidated dinosaurs like me!  Of course, the 3k drive to Old Dookie Rd was par for Pistol.  Not to be outdone, Bo made short work of the west way to Central Ave, but probably cooked Kel into the bargain.  There'd be a second shift for me today.  Kel towed us to Dobson's bridge, Kreeky driving to Doyles, so I had the final fling to SPC.  Maybe the buildings bordering Old Dookie were the windbreak?  Speed was rather satisfying to the roundabout to finish off the frolic. 

1/10  Galivantin' Goats.

A Lemnos lap re-aquainted  me with two wheels, two days off to recharge an old battery had charged the craving to clock up k's.  A westerly massaged the ego out to the soup tin but the way back underlined the reality of work into the wind, time the ever present enemy to unearth a bit more effort.   

Someone must have yelled free beer!
Goats had gathered in numbers not seen since March!  Dippa, Phil, Belly, Hommie, Snowman, Sandy and Heady filled the Friars footpath, even Mitch had returned to repeat a ride.  Does that make him dedicated or delirious?

Dippa did the Heady thing to lead us out of town, JB and DeepFry the surprise additions at SPC (shaking off their hibernation)   Two lines struggled to form nearing a foggy Dobson's estate, Belly launching a breakaway of Jens Voight proportions (clearly motivated by the breeze up the backside).  Well, that turned the formation back to Indian file, most happy to let him get away 'cause Central Ave's traffic would most likely shut his move down. 

Hommie had the hurry-up's too but it was that David Bowie thing at work again (I wondered if there'd be that sort of enthusiasm on the way west on River Rd?)  Two rows finally found favor as the mob steered south onto Boundary Rd, Mitch surprisingly following me on the advance line to the front (the cacophony of flapping clothes a dead give-away ; we must get the lad in lycra if he's to blend in with the bunch)  Thought he was fighting Heady for ownership rights to the caboose?  Dippa had called his turn quits at the foggy fig farm, so I rolled across to inherit Mitch as a co-pilot in pace.  Play fair Foss, he's new.  That westerly was wearing away his wattage wather wapidly!  All the signs showed ; onto the drops, nose to the headstem, a grab at another gear.  I called him across and gave a little more space as his battle with the breeze continued, Coggo kindly rolling across to donate a draft and avoid an imminent implosion.  Ah, we all start somewhere....

Hommie, Sandy, JB and Phil went on the advance while I was demoted rearward, that cruel clock driving me to exit via Channel Rd.  And I had a headwind homeward to boot! Keeping eyes off the speed (it tends to be the gauge of fitness....or far from it!) is a hard habit to break, I had focus fixed on the road ahead to avoid disappointment  but a glance at the Garmin soon gripped me.  Mid 30's, not so bad.  The heart rate slowly climbed and the speed slowly sank, so the bait of a red led ahead stirred some speed out of an emptying tank.  Ol' mate Blacky came into view (that soloist always going the other way) so slowing to swap several sentences was most timely.  Time though soon stole me away, turning up tempo again if I was to remain employed and more foggy patches to carve through homeward.  (with headlight turned to pulse for motorists mid-text / still sleeping / sans sense / not caring a continental)

2/10  Velocity volunteers.

My Scottish namesake (nearly) reckons we're flatter than Holland here, but we've nearly always got wind to make up for the lack of elevation.   And it's changing daily.  Yesterday a westerly, today a northeaster. Can't complain about the variety!  The headlights of PistolPete, Col, The Godfather, Tina, Kreeky, Bo, Joe (not Tony) and Kel cut into  the half light of 5:40 at Sanctuary's roundabout, Col breaking the protocol of Pistol's first turn, almost breaking bits off the back of the bunch in the opening k (Is Allan supplying the EPO?)   The Godfather captained the Mitchell Rd leg to Kialla Central, the northeaster making it's presence felt.  Didn't trouble PistolPete though, driving to River Rd at his standard speed. (swift)  Vince and The Rabbit had climbed aboard our little train while the wily wind had swung a little more easterly, just to extract a little more effort for our way toward Coach Rd.  Times like these you appreciate a little variety in the volunteers for velocity, the light and shade of pace a chance to draw in a little more oxygen before serving time at the front.   Kel retired rearward at the dip for Tina's turn toward the quarter horse stud, Kreeky doing his usual long drive to deliver us to Coach Rd.  

Hasn't Joe (not Tony) stepped up a rung or two! His position at the front (crown of the road to shelter the rear from that wind) was poised like a pro to tap out a tempo to the Broken bridges.  My turn.  That little downhill off the bridge got my shift off to a good start, happy those trees eased the pain up to Channel Rd but beyond needed horsepower to preserve the hurry. Lucky there was only a k left exposed to the highway.  Col was captain again beyond the Pub, whatever he had for breakfast did the trick all the way to Old Dookie Rd.  A couple of Cat collections cruised south, and was that a P&W re-union spinning a k behind?  Spring has stirred some to swing a leg over.  The Godfather had won the lottery of a tailwind west to School Rd, Pistol back in action for his charge to Central Ave.  It's a happier mindset with the breeze behind for the return to town, even though the legs and lungs labor at the extra pace, Vince so inspired he'd reached the drivers seat to spice the speed into town.  Bo kept us busy toward SPC, commonsense calming the hurry to roll relaxed to the Butter Factory for a fix.

This week 206km      YTD 8,101km