The Way Life Ought To Be
I have a really sweet situation here, and it's being ruined by a young arrogant entry-level project management puke with no respect for people who sat through less than six years of college.
But I'm not writing this post to bitch, I'm writing it to show my appreciation when things turn out well. After work I went to the 'tuesday night fights' - the BOB team ride in Plaistow NH. The Ride is a fun little jaunt from plaistow to exeter and back, with a few hill and townline sprints and a respite as we roll and regroup in exeter at about the 1/2 way point.
I wasn't too sure how I was feeling. I knew i wouldn't get dropped, but didn't know how much work I felt like doing. I haven't raced yet this year, not even a training race, I haven't yet 'turned the pedals in anger', and I was tired and cranky from work.
After the warm-up, I took the point to get things rolling by dragging the group over the first hill at 25 mph, then sat at the back to see how it shook out. The pace kept slowing on the flats, like under 21 mph.
Alright, I'll work.
I went to the front again and started driving, but not killing myself. It kept happening, when I dropped off the front, the pace dropped significantly, so I would go to the front to push it again. I rode away from the group at the exeter sprint without sprinting. Finally about 5 miles from the finish I just kept the pace up over a little rise, a gap opened, and I kept going. Over the next series of hills I kept the pace on the ups, and pushed hard on the flats, and coasted the downs. These roads are old logging and farm paths that have been paved over the years, so a 15 second gap puts you out of sight. Checking back at the last sections where you can see longer, I could see a good 30 second gap.
As I said, we weren't even close to hammering. My average speed for the entire last half of the ride was only 21.3 and the average for the two 'working' sections was only 21.7. My average from the point I broke away was only 21.5. Really, that's hardly the stuff stuff of break away wins.
Approaching the 'finish line' I backed way off - no need for an uphill sprint - and still rolled across the line 30 seconds ahead of the group. I got the good-natured ribbing that I love from the guys - "if you didn't want to ride with us you should have said so", "what, are you fuckin' juicin' now?", and "ya know, trying to get away isn't going to work, we'll still tell people you're with us". I do love these guys.
After the ride my wife and I got invited to a local restaurant that has Irish Sessions on tuesdays, and the largest selection of microbrews in massachusetts (36), where I had an Avery Ellies Brown Ale, a Left Hand Black Jack Porter, and a Dogfish 90 Minute IPA. The Brown gets an A, while the porter and IPA both get Bs. The restaurant has a card filing system where they keep track of what brews you've had, and after you drink 36 different brews they give you a T-shirt that reads "I've been around the block with the grill next door". I need six more brews for the T-shirt.
So, blowing the doors off the training ride, followed by an evening of irish music and craft brews - The Way Life Ought To Be......