Been for my long ride today, got in about an hour ago. (Missed the Eastenders omnibus, the sacrifices I have to make, honestly!!) Some of our regular cycle group were missing as they've deserted us for Lanzarote, so we went from a different area, and did the Outlaw route. (Not all of it, the 50 mile loop) I have to say it wasn't the worst route I've cycled, but it also wasn't the most inspiring. You see, I have a rather short attention span, so after about 5 minutes I begin to look round for something pretty to look at. Or just something other than road.
My coach despairs of me I think. On a ''proper'' training ride a while back (which I did my best to get out of) I think he became tired of repeating the phrase ''Come on Cayci'' (said with a huge sigh and extended syllables- ''cooome onnnnn Cayyyyciii'') and decided to give me a tip. ''Cayci, you know your problem? You're too easily distracted. I'm cycling behind you and all I can see is your head twisting everywhere looking around all the time!'' At which I replied that I was enjoying the scenery. Exasperated, he said ''You aren't on a shopper bike with a basket on the front flowing down a country lane, you have to focus!!'' I informed him that I simply do not have enough testosterone in my body to be bent over on the drops puffing and sweating and grunting, shouting ''COOOME ON, HARDER, HARDER!''. Nooo thank you. I may break a nail with all that effort.
Seriously though, I do have some grit and determination in me. About 15 miles into the ride today, we approached Oxton Hill. I had heard of this hill (It's got a reputation) but never seen it. As the incline began, I sat back on my seat and began spinning my legs, looking just in front. I thought that was it. But no. Oxton deserved it's reputation. It went on, and on, and on. Steeper. My gears ran out, and I literally couldn't breathe. Which is when the arguement started. It isn't my body that is the problem, that would quite happily go wherever, it's my mind. My mind is naturally lazy, and it always tries to corrupt my legs into thinking they aren't strong enough, my lungs into thinking they can't expand, and my backside into thinking it shouldn't sit on a bike saddle full stop. Ever.
''Just get off and push the bike'' it whispers. ''No!'', I say, ''I'm going up this hill and I'm going up it sitting down!'' It begins telling me exactly what I could be doing at that moment (Eastenders omnibus) rather than sweating up a hill with a tight chest, weak legs and a numb backside. I argue that my breathing is fine, my legs are strong, and.. I can't find an answer for the last bit, because it's true. But I win! I power up the hill, teeth gritted, heart pounding, and reach the top triumphant and feeling pumped with testosterone. There may have even been a war cry attemping to escape.
As I descended down the other side I tried not to think that in 4 months time I will be riding up a mountain in Majorca for almost 7 miles. (Ironman Majorca 70.3).
Maybe my coach has a point. Time to focus.
After yet another stop for the males in the group to go to the toilet (4 times altogether!) we settled into a nice pace, and I began to think about eating something, as we'd been going for an hour and a half. I began to open my bar when we approached another hill, so had to wait, obviously I can't puff, sweat, pant, grit and everything else as well as eat. Luckily I didn't have to have an arguement again, as the hill wasn't that big.
Approaching the top, I heard a shout from the back that had the P word in it. The P word is that thing that shalt not be named, because if it isn't named it won't happen. Puncture.
At least this gave me a chance to eat my bar and stretch my legs. That was about as much use as I could be, because I've never actually changed one. I have had one, but luckily at the time I was cycling near a canal, and a very kind man sat on his boat with a can of lager in one hand and a fishing rod in the other came to my rescue and did it for me. It soon became clear that I wasn't the only one who didn't have a clue, because all the others in the group just stood there as well! Luckily the person whose tyre it was did have a clue, and changed it, and I must point out that she was female. (You go sister, do it for the girls, women everywhere will thank you) I must rectify this situation and begin P Practice. If it happened to me I'd be hitching a lift home.
The rest of the ride passed uneventfully, and we got back and went straight out for a quick run off the bike. I've done a lot of gritting of teeth today, my jaw is beginning to ache.
The best part of any ride (apart from speeding down a hill at 30mph screaming in joy and terror) has got to be the satisfaction when you finish. You just feel so healthy and fit and alive. Also the cake. Crucial part of any session, post-ride cake. Today we had a choice of 3, treacle, lemon, and fruit. Nice. All in all, a great day. Even if I did miss Eastenders. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment