Dusted

Twice this year I've been really badly spanked.

The first time was on Good Friday when I rode with a big group. People I normally could hang with (at least a year before) completely dropped me at the end. Annn. Jennifer. Everyone else on that ride.

The second time was today.

I wanted to try a new 32 mile route that Fave sent me. Dave suggested we leave from my house, making the route roughly 50 miles. I haven't ridden farther than 40 in, oh I don't know, two years! but I said what the hell anyway. We started strong, helped along by a downhill start. And the first 27ish miles were good - a little hilly but tolerable.

The next six miles were torture - long gradual uphills, a couple steep uphills, and somehow very little counterbalancing downhills. I'm not really sure how that works. After the first climb on this section, my legs were toast. Dave was a distant speck ahead of me. He waited for me and tried to pull me but it was impossible for him to go as slowly as I was going without risking a complete stop, rolling backwards, or falling over.

When we hit a rest point at 36 miles, I realized that we had another 16 to go to finish the entire route for a total of 52 miles. Somehow that extra unanticipated two miles really did me in. I lobbied hard for a change of plans that gave us about another six miles instead. I know Dave was not excited about riding on Broad Street (hey, at least it wasn't 288) but he did. I guess it was the lesser of two evils compared to the option of dragging my boat-anchor self another 16.

We finished with almost 42 miles at 16.9 mph by my bike computer. It was everything I had today.

I guess I'd better drag out my trainer so I don't have a three-peat.
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