DXchulo
04-06-08, 06:13 PM
I was on form today. It was a beautiful thing.
It's strange. I've felt slow all year. Winter has a way of doing that to me, but winter is over and I still haven't broken out of my slow phase. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to feel "fast" (fast for me, which is probably garbage for most people ;)) again. I definitely wasn't expecting it to happen today.
Last weekend I did my March century. That's when I was hoping to shake the slow bug, but it wasn't to be. Yesterday I did a hard 68 miles, most of which were with the local group of guys. I was feeling good but never great. You probably know the feeling. I was hanging with the group and taking my pulls, but every pull took all the energy I had and I was glad when it was over. I never pulled off thinking, "I could have pulled longer/harder than that." When I got home after the ride I felt completely dead. Not a good sign for Sunday, I thought.
I woke up feeling better, but my legs were still sore. I watched the Tour of Flanders and waited for those magical 60 degrees to warm my little corner of the planet. I planned a 49 mile ride entirely expecting a suffer-fest. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? Little did I know I was going to have my best ride of the year. It's strange how that happens. Maybe I was inspired by the Tour of Flanders, the warm weather, riding in short sleeves for the first time this year, or maybe my legs were just numb from the pain. Whatever it was, I hope I can capture the magic again.
I expect tomorrow's commute to hurt. That means it should be a good one, right? Or does my expecting it to be good because I expect it to be bad a sign that it will be bad for sure? It's all so confusing.
It's strange. I've felt slow all year. Winter has a way of doing that to me, but winter is over and I still haven't broken out of my slow phase. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to feel "fast" (fast for me, which is probably garbage for most people ;)) again. I definitely wasn't expecting it to happen today.
Last weekend I did my March century. That's when I was hoping to shake the slow bug, but it wasn't to be. Yesterday I did a hard 68 miles, most of which were with the local group of guys. I was feeling good but never great. You probably know the feeling. I was hanging with the group and taking my pulls, but every pull took all the energy I had and I was glad when it was over. I never pulled off thinking, "I could have pulled longer/harder than that." When I got home after the ride I felt completely dead. Not a good sign for Sunday, I thought.
I woke up feeling better, but my legs were still sore. I watched the Tour of Flanders and waited for those magical 60 degrees to warm my little corner of the planet. I planned a 49 mile ride entirely expecting a suffer-fest. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? Little did I know I was going to have my best ride of the year. It's strange how that happens. Maybe I was inspired by the Tour of Flanders, the warm weather, riding in short sleeves for the first time this year, or maybe my legs were just numb from the pain. Whatever it was, I hope I can capture the magic again.
I expect tomorrow's commute to hurt. That means it should be a good one, right? Or does my expecting it to be good because I expect it to be bad a sign that it will be bad for sure? It's all so confusing.