On the road. On my ass, sitting in a crowded gymnasium and nerding out being the only leg-shaver staring at a computer screen. Today was hell, probably the worst day of my life in the race world.
I do not know what went wrong. How much was physical, ie poor rest and poor nutrition? How much was mental? I tell you what, I have a lot to blame it on. Let’s blame it on school, let’s blame it on mowing lawns the day before my race. Let’s blame it on inadequate sleep and jerky professors and flakey team mates. How about this, from my sister last night before I left:
“So Dad has a cell phone. He told me ‘hey I am really trying to make some changes and be more reachable. I’d really like Calvin to know my number. I won’t call him but if you could give it to him just in case he wants to call, well, please give it to him’. So yeah, J, Dad wanted me to give it to you. Do you want to write this down?�
Silly thoughts swarm one’s synapses while peddling solo into a 25mph head wind, FORTY minutes behind the leading pack and at least Twenty-Five minutes behind the laughing pack.
Just typed up some independent research garbage. It will be the last report to turn in this semester, due on Tuesday. Then… then, then what? Bikes? I rode so shitty today and blew so hard that I fear putting all my eggs, hell, even one egg in that basket.
Wah. Must go walk. More later, you can count on it.
24 HOURS LATER
We are in Fossil now. Put in a decent TT this morning and was holding my own in the road race. Suddenly… “Lady Fortuna, Inconstant Goddess�, my freaking seat post busted midway down, and I shot out the back of the peloton like a mach 3 dookie. I managed to ride about seven miles, including a three mile descent, whilst standing, before finally flagging down the Cat 3 mechanical support car to explain my problem.
We threw on a woman’s saddle and post and I started dieseling in attempt to reclaim some ground. News flash: my saddle was set about three inches too low, and within two miles of pedaling my legs were pulling the strangest of muscle groups in to assist with pedaling. I stopped at the first feed zone, raised my saddle, and then resumed my independent journey.
So yeah, day number two of two plus hours solo. Though I must admit I felt considerably better this go around. I’ve procured another post to ride on tomorrow. Perhaps I can finish with a pack? What the hell is going on?
Sima and Shane offered me shelter this evening, some I’m sitting in the comfort of their rented motor home instead of battling the stench and news of three hundred other cyclists in the gymnasium.
Must go. More later.
