Another big week

Rest is a luxury of the rich it seems. A working man has to double-down to get his hard-earned training, balancing between work and play. Toss in a little weather, and things can be a challenge. The Lego pieces of life can only be assembled so many ways.

A quick review of the week in our club is revealing.

• Scott rode his first century
• Heavy weather made that century difficult to accomplish
• The top-3 riders in mileage this week were all above 185 miles(!)
• People are looking STRONG

Such is an Ironman year, where those that sign on the line face the all-too-real certainty the date will arrive and they will realize they are ready or they are not. Experience says that's scary enough to get them out there training when ordinarily they might not. 

Our start yesterday was not without some mix up, which happens when so many people coordinate different schedules, and I won't go into details other than John T. and Miller started early, met the later group, and we all rode together from there. Participants were (in addition to the first two) Roy, Scott, Jimmy, and me. Our target from the church group was 40 miles - at least, that was my target. I needed 36 miles to get 200 for the week, but wanted a nice round zero on the end of the day's number. The others were happy to accommodate, especially Jimmy who'd bailed on the previous day's century mid-ride. 

The course was meandering, which drives some guys nuts. We had little choice - the flooding made simply picking a path and going difficult. Twice we were turned around, and on the second event I made a decision to go a divergent path. We were within sight of Highway 56 between Paoli and Livonia - it was perhaps a mile away and in clear view. I knew it was open, a pretty road, and I was curious about the state of Highway 37 from Paoli to Orleans. 

We began to backtrack, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to go 56. Thing was, I didn't particularly want anyone to go with me because I couldn't be certain it was safe. That's what I really wanted to find out. There was also embedded a challenge; could I get to Huck's around the same time they did? I figured the distances were approximate, but guessed also (correctly) my path would be longer and hillier. I would have to work pretty hard to do it. 

The first climb was almost enough change my mind. It peaks over 14% grade, no small thing the day after a century ride. The other side was over 43 mph downhill, giving some idea just how big it was. From there it was full commitment to 56. 

Highway 56 is to me a beautiful ride, even as it gets hillier. The farms are built into the hills in a very picturesque way, and there is a certain rhythm to the climb and glide sequence that is challenging and rewarding. 

I wish I could say the same of Highway 37. It was crowded, busy, and ugly. That said, I always make great time going north despite the uphill nature of the ride. It wasn't as if I had a tailwind (as I should have); the winds had shifted to the north and it was a steady pressure in my face. Like the day before, the longer the ride went the better I felt. 

I did catch the group at Huck's. They couldn't have been there too long as Miller was just completing his food purchase. Perfect! I would have time to grab a quick snack and drink. On top of that, the Seidles were there, and we had a little time to catch up with them. We apologized for the absence of Allen's calves, though I did spot a tear in Bret's eye as he slowly turned his bike west for his return trek to Bedford. 

It was a great day to ride. Part of me wishes it would warm up already and be spring, really, but another part of me knows that riding is never easier than it is right now, in these weather conditions. No bugs, no sweat, no stress. It's hard to argue with that.