Clarion application is winging its way through the aether. I just hope UCSD Extension’s commerce engine didn’t just eat my credit card. It has given me The Fear.
Good gravy, but that hurt.
I only managed four (or maybe three?) laps before my legs and pride completely gave out. I just couldn’t hack the pace (at least 28 mph, the highest my computer got) and dropped behind after the second turn.
But Paul, one of my teammates (and a triathlon coach), told me he crapped out on his first race, and I didn’t feel so bad. It’s a different feeling than a triathlon, where my only concern was my own time. In a crit, you’ve got to suck it up and muscle in with the peloton and hold your spot. All that jostling still scares me, but, dammit, I’m not going to let it get to me.
Plus, I had waffles Benedict for breakfast. Any activity that allows me to suck down that much food and still have room for a chocolate croissant, fish tacos and big bowl of pasta for dinner and still feel hungry is eight kinds of good. We’ll see how Friday’s ride with La Grange goes.
No dropping out. No whining. Ironmen show up.
I got dropped today.
La Grange Velo has a Friday recovery ride. I went last week, and it wrecked me, but I managed to keep in the middle of the pack. Today, with the wind and all its flakiness, I was sure I’d be able to repeat that performance, maybe improve on it.
Oh, no. Nonononono.
I got dropped by the entire peloton, and it was embarrassing. And you know what? I have no one to blame but myself. It wasn’t the wind, it wasn’t my jacket creating drag, it wasn’t my rig, it wasn’t the pace. It was me. And I realize that saying “I got dropped” is a load of passive voice bullshit. It makes it sound like something happened to me, rather than me failing to do something. If I’m hit by a giant pink elephant that materializes out of nowhere, that’s okay to have that happen to me. But today? I just sucked.
Sunday is my first cycle race, and I had all these visions of glory. And now? I just want to keep up with the peloton. Suck it up.