I’ve said before I’m not a technical cyclist, but that I’m learning. Part of that process is pushing myself on rides; corning, staying aero, ect. And while I’m not a math person per say, my mind does tell me when I’ve taken a bad line around a corner and need to hop onto my ‘OH %@*#’ bars. Let me back up a little first though…
This week is my spring break. Being…well me…I’m spending it training. I’ve had 3 sport days the last four days, mostly at race pace. With pretty much a whole day to do what I want this week, I’m getting in some really nice sessions. The swim time trials my coach set up have been…humbling. The fact that I’m setting benchmarks and then moving straight to the day’s bike-run sessions is fantastic practice for the upcoming season. Not to mention that because of our A-MAZE-ING nutrition sponsor PowerBar, I’ve yet to really feel fatigued even with the four days of hard training. The PowerGels are hands down my (one of anyway) secret weapon for this season. Because I’m still feeling pretty fresh, I was really looking forward to today. Hard 4k in the pool, then the 48mile loop in Cartersville straight to a 45 minute brick run. So let’s get to the story that prompted the title above.
I hit up masters this afternoon for the first time this week, and the coach put up one of my favorite types of sets. 16 minutes changing effort whenever she blew the whistle. Then she followed that up with 2 rounds of 5×100 at T pace on :05 rest…Did I mention I’m already around 9k BEFORE this set for the last 36 hours? So anyway…swim done, I made the :45 drive to the Budweiser plant where I’d ride from. I set out about 2pm, in the amazing 90* Georgia weather, coated in sunscreen. I head out, cruising along, and at about the 15mile mark, I hit an S-turn. Pushing myself, I stayed aero, and took the first corner. Then my mind said, “AHHHHH”, and my mouth said, “…well damn”, and that was as far as I got before I laid my bike out at around 25mph. Not that any of you fellow triathletes need me to say this, but the first thing I checked was my bike. Then my helmet because I just bought this new one a couple weeks ago. The helmet didn’t have a scratch! Then I stood up, looked at my side, and my only comment was, “That’s REALLY going to hurt in the shower.”
Now I bet some of you are thinking, “That sucks! I’m sorry you had to cut such a promising training day short.” HA! You REALLy don’t know me if you’re one of the people thinking that. The next 90 minutes I hammered it; just straight tore through the rest of the route…until the last 10 miles when all the adrenaline and endorphins faded. Those last 10 were uncomfortable, but maybe they weren’t really, only felt that way by comparison. I finished the ride, put my bike in my car, and sent a text to my coach asking HYPOTHETICALLY if I crashed my bike and had some nice road rash, how long would that mean I was out of the pool; hypothetically of course… Ran my 45 minutes, felt pretty good, then drove to my local shop to make sure all the damage to Cassia was cosmetic.
Once home, I took another evaluation of the damage to my body. Really not bad considering, and I think a lot of that is because I’m at race weight, and I didn’t have a ton of momentum to skip along the roadside. After I noticed a couple scrapes, and some awesome bruises that are forming, I hopped in the shower. There wasn’t screaming, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t grit my teeth and groan through them when the water hit my battle wounds. I’d be lying too if I said I was looking forward to how I feel in the morning once all the inflammation has set in triggering the healing process. Below are the pictures; taken as best I could without just standing there naked. Moral of the story? …I don’t think this has one. Maybe a lesson that if you’ve never crashed your bike, you needn’t look forward to the road’s kisses from the fall. And that you have to get back on the preverbal horse if you want to learn.