06 February, 2010

Is it me, or is it getting cold?

Well kids, did the hour of power and got waaaxed! Maybe WinterPark taxed my pistons but I don't want to make excuses for my lack o'fitness. I thought it was going to be in the 40s but it was right at freezing y'all when I showed up at Chatfield. Of course I forgot my head gear so trying to be resourceful I positioned my toe-warmers, a la Spock-like over my pinnas. It looked hella dumb but I was warm! While I was shoving it over my pinnas and under my helmet those punctual bastidges took off. A Team "Bang Salon" guy and I were both caught unaware and we chased like cat Vs trying to win a Schrader Valve inner tube prime. Once we caught up I noticed my heart rate was kinda off-the-charts. I chilled at the back to get it down to normal. Once we made the turn to Waterton Canyon trailhead dem bastidges drilled it.

My leggy-legs were definitely feeling the bump runs at WinterPark and I was just hanging on for dear life. Couldn't find a cadence that was comfortable when the watts were turned up and that put me in a mental asynchronous condition called "mental asynchronous syndrome" (I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV). Have I mentioned how warm my pinnas (made you say, "pinnas") are?

Popped like Mentos in a two liter Coke bottle. This was on the second hump on the climb. Saw my fellow Natural Grocer/Vitamin Cottage compadre Bill Herwig motoring like the fiend he is with the leaders on the climb up the road. Hanging out in Purgatory (behind the leaders, in front of the shlomos), I decided I better shut down the HR ASAP. I slowed waaay down and pulled a you-ee to catch 'em when they're going like bats-out-of-hell on the descent. My nutty-arsed ear warmer contraption needed adjustment anyway.

Sho' nuff they're blasting down the road like a diesel truck hauling two trailers and I insert myself somewhere in the middle. Before the turn into Chatfield, somebody kisses somebody's rear tire and you hear the breaks squealing like pigs at a Jimmy Dean sausage factory (that's right, I'm a pescatarian). I see Bill bust a cyclocross move on the right shoulder/ditch to avoid the almost crash. Believe it or not, nobody went down although I did see a competitor temporarily sideways. Nutrageous.

As we're heading into the park we're completely drilling it and my body's back in sync with my cadence (53X12). Hands in the drops, I'm feeling frisky and I want to drift towards the yellow, centerline and surge to the front of the group to push the pace a wee bit. A dozen or so riders beat me to the centerline and they're ripping it, somebody yells "Car up!" and they get their sensibilities and get back towards the correct side of the centerline (that aint cool, centerline violating chumps!). Almost at the same time another group to the far right is doing the same thing. Since I was closest to the right-hand surge I picked a wheel and kept my line so nobody would try to insert themselves between me and my wheel suckee (dude in front of me). For each 10 yards as we approach the finish line some .5 miles away, there's at least one rider getting cooked and going backwards as we're rolling.

They're going so fast I'm probably now top ten and I see Bill Herwig and six others jump out of the saddle for the final drag race to the line. The group I'm with is content to motorpace off the sprinters and they tow us to the line (I gotta save my energy because I'm doing two more hours after this nonsense). Probably finished top twelve just getting sucked along in the slipstream of the surging group.

It's officially freezing once we get back to the staging/parking. Bill changes his wet jersey and I ride with his group for about an hour and they meet some friends and chat. I need to keep rolling to get to hour three so I say goodbye and head back to my car to take off these ridiculous toe covers from my ears. Put on my Texas beanie and rode towards my boy's house: Hez-chilly to complete the two out of three union of the homey trinity (Kev's the third). He wasn't there so I eat my one PowerBar at a grocery store and head back as the mercury continues to dip.

Ahhh, three hours. My legs are done from two days of trying to act like a bike racer. Time to drink some green tea and clean our house. Didn't feel quite as accomplished as last week but I still loved it anyways y'all.

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