Monday, February 16, 2009

Decompression

Wow. Palm Springs. Don't even know where to start. My natural inclination at this point is to bitch at length about the mediocre weather (we rode in a goddamn ice storm, for crissakes), about living with ten people for over a week, about being phenomenally carsick for 3 of my vacation days. About how hard it was not to have anyone to talk to about how much I struggled on the bike.

But its probably best at this point to focus on what was positive and what I picked up from the experience.

1. I learned that you won't die if you combine Sudafed, Dramamine and Exedrin PM in a single sitting. With beer.

2. Chipolte burritos are OK once during a training week. Twice, you are asking for trouble.

3. The earplugs I have worn at every bar examination also work to drown out early morning conflict about how to best brew coffee. A conversation best left those who actually care, not to those of us who will drink anything that can be tempered by cream or feel that taste can always be sacrificed to effect.

4. I have deadly aim with mini-soccer balls when drunk and provoked. Take a look at German's forehead the next time you see him and tell me that I'm wrong.

5. "All Things Considered" on the iPod is a surefire cure for insomnia. To speed the effect, combine with hot tub.

And in all seriousness:

6. I need to become more comfortable training by myself and/or need to find someone that can challenge me without every ride turning into a threshold ride. I can't even LOOK at my road bike right now without being frustrated with the engine that's running it. Time for a solo perspective check.

7. But, on a different note, I did so love riding the new bike. But the fit was a bit off and I spent a lot of time fiddling with things during the week, with minimal success. Lots of hamstring strain, foot numbness and stiffness in my upper arms. It was a perfect storm of a new bike, new position and lots of miles.

8. Climb. Climb. Climb. I live on Corbett and within spitting distance of Terwilliger. There are no good excuses.

9. I'm having a serious conversation in my head about quality vs. quantity of training. If road racing means this many hours in the saddle in order to just keep up with the other lemmings, maybe that's not what I'm cut out for. At least not right now. Seems to me that I should be able to be competent at something on the bike without spending 8 hours each weekend riding. The resultant fatigue, both physical and mental, is making me cranky 24/7. Not cool. And definitely not fun.

10. Nothing kills a case of the lonelies like group travel. I get a new roommate next month and will relish having the condo to myself in the meantime. I don't know if I had ever spent 10 days without watching TV in my underwear at least once during that time. So I spent most of the morning yesterday lounging upside down on the couch in my ugliest pair of cotton underwear, flipping between basketball, "Praise the Lord" and the sci fi channel. While talking to my cats.

More tomorrow. We had some epic rides and it would be a shame not to make fun of myself riding them.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

If you do some hard riding and live like an athlete, you can improve and be competitive at your level by riding eight hours per week, not per weekend.