Or perhaps a post about wind.
On the schedule for this past weekend was a 63-mile ride Saturday, and a 15-mile run Sunday. The temperatures looked to be great for both days, and I was excited to not have a rainy weekend for the first time in what seems like a while.
And then the wind blew. Relentlessly. I've never thought it was possible to be blown off my bike, but I'm pretty sure it almost happened a few times on Saturday's ride. We started out from Tyler Elementary in Gainesville. The first 10 miles were on Rt 245, into a direct headwind. After drafting off Es for two miles (thanks bud), I figured I was strong enough to push harder. I instantly recognized the savings of being in the aero position - sitting up, I was struggling to stay 10 mph. Dropped down aero, I was averaging about 19-20. And then we turned off 245. My bike and I, attempting to stay together as a solid unit, started to dance with the wind. Between every house and break in landscape came gusts which were so powerful, I thought I was going to lose my bike out from under me. Forget taking a drink from a bottle, I couldn't let go of my handlebars. Aero position was out of the question. A quick stop at a 7-11 around mile 16, which was filled with people from the 40 mile ride (left from a different location 30 minutes following the 63's) caused a long pause in my ride. Hoping to catch Es, I threw on my and went screaming down the road. Dropped into aero, I felt awesome.... rocking out going maintaining between 25-28mph. I went sailing past one of our SAG drivers, and waved as I continued down the road. All of the sudden, my coach comes up with the SAG driver whom I just passed in their car, and yells at me to stop. Thinking I was about to get a lecture about riding in the center of the road (I was avoiding potholes on the side of the desolate roads).. I pulled up to their window. Ed, trying to keep a straight face.. says "look at your reflection".
I put my helmet on backwards. Wow.
I can't even explain the logistics of how that actually worked, and how I didn't NOTICE that my helmet was on backwards... but I digress. I fixed my helmet, laughed, and continued on my way. I picked up speed again, and then hit a major pothole. I maintained control, but it beat me to the core. I listened: No flat tire, no bent rims. Life was good until I reached back to grab my Gatorade out of my rear bottle holder. Gone. I stopped, and I literally broke BOTH bottle cages in the hit (side note: I have the same set up as Ray, who also has only lost a bottle due to failure against a severe pothole. Luckily, I didn't break my seat). Rt 713: 2, Lindsay: 0. Once I got everything together, and laughed a little more about the fact I zoomed past a bunch of people with my helmet on backwards, the rest of the ride was rather uneventful. Since I had lost two water bottles in the pothole fiasco, I was way down on calories for the ride. It started to heat up, which wasn't helping, nor was the wind still gusting at 35 knots. I slowed down, and Gina along with another teammate caught up to me. We tackled Snickersville Turnpike together. I'm not sure on the score of Snickersville vs myself, but it was a close match. There were points I was going 3 mph up the hills, every turn of the cranks burning my quads in a strange enjoyably masochistic way.
And then the breakdown started. Groups of motorcyclists were coming from the opposite direction. I couldn't help but think that my dad (proud owner of a Triumph Bonneville) would have loved to been out riding on a day like today. And then came a flood of emotions I've been repressing. I'm sure my teammates had no idea I was bawling under my sunglasses, attempting to keep the tears from welling into my eyes, because I needed to see the road (not that it was passing by quickly - I was still struggling to maintain 4mph up the hills..) I think if I wouldn't have had some teammates there, I would have gotten off my bike and curled up against a tree for a few hours and thrown a self-pity party. I'm glad they were there. The remainder of the ride was good after that, and I returned a bit quicker than I thought I was going to.
I planned to ride on Sunday again with a teammate, however my ass wasn't going to have it. I switched to tri shorts on the 63 miler, and, although comfortable, they take a bit of getting used to. My ass was not that happy with me Sunday. I decided to forgo the additional biking after cheering on teammates at the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler. Instead, I came home, took a nap, got my 13 miles in (hey, I rode around town for a while.. that should count as 2 miles of running).
I miss sleeping in on the weekends.
