This has been a bad week for riding.
Or I’ve been slack.
One or the other, but I’m going with the first one.
Today I got home late but was still determined to squeeze in
a ride. With the sun ominously low in
the sky, I set out for a twelve mile ride, that being all I had time for. Since the ride was so short, I decided I was
going to go as hard as I could and just rip the route up.
It only took about a third of a mile for my legs and the
wind together to tell me that, while I should still feel free to go as hard as I could,
I wouldn’t be ripping anything up, except possibly my legs and maybe my self esteem.
Still, it’s a ride, right?
Now I had a choice to make.
I could ride the route clockwise, in which case I would get the worst of
the wind at the beginning and the end, or I could ride it
counterclockwise and get the worst of the wind in the middle of the ride. (I think that’s all backwards for our friends
in the other hemisphere.)
I would have liked the second option if it wasn’t for the
fact that it would have put me on the busiest road for the longest time during
the worst traffic.
Let’s see…setting off into the wind or dramatically
increasing my chances of getting splatted by a car…wind it is.
Four miles of headwind, right turn, unpleasant crosswind for
a bit and then here comes the right turn that will put the wind at my
back. Ahead of me is a car waiting to
turn left onto the same road I want to turn right onto. There is no other traffic, so why is that car
simply sitting in the road waiting to turn instead of actually turning?
Is the driver waiting for the guy on the bike?
Sort of.
In fact, she waited a good thirty seconds, until I was
almost in the turn, and then she
turned right across my path. Oh,
boy. I turn after her, and she takes off
down the road. I watch the car grow
smaller and smaller and then bigger and bigger as she slows down.
What the heck?
(There is no need to cue the music from Jaws here.)
With a very nice wind behind me, I catch up with her. She is doing 21 point something or other mph,
and, as I am closing in on her, cars are coming up behind me and passing me and
then passing her, and then there I am, drafting off of this car.
I don’t want to be drafting off of this car. First of all, drafting off of a stranger is…how
shall we put it…fundamentally unwise.
Second of all, I’m interested in riding hard and getting stronger, and
drafting isn’t going to get me there.
Then, in unique experience for me, I feel like I can pass
this car and leave her behind. Perhaps
putting myself in front of this particular driver isn’t the wisest move in the
world, either, but I do it. As I am
passing her, I notice that, despite her slow speed, she isn’t looking for
anything. In fact, she has her face
resolutely and apparently immovably pointed straight ahead.
I think to myself, “You’re driving a car and you just got
passed by a guy on a bicycle! And not
only a guy on a bicycle, but by me. Is this one of the signs of the apocalypse?”
I hit 25 mph (tailwind!) and I’m off. I never see my friend in the car again. I get nearly two blessed miles of that tailwind,
and then it’s another right turn and the going gets harder and another right
turn and I’m into the headwind again for another few miles, but I’m still going
as hard as I can, which is not quite the same effort as it was at the beginning of the ride, I can tell you.
Pretty soon I’m back home, and, as it turns out, I have
clocked my highest average speed for a ride since I got back on the bike. Now, I now guys who could surely trim as much
as five or even ten minutes off my time, but I’m happy with it. It’s one more sign of improving fitness.
Nice.