Aaaaarrrrrgh! Yup, that about sums up my PIR experience today. A DNF! That totally sucks. I just don’t get it. Am I getting weaker or is everyone else getting stronger? Ok ok, I’ll cut myself some slack. I mean, hell, last week was about the most lethargic week off one can imagine. 100 degree days with little relief at night. I still diligently rode to work each day but my motivation beyond that that this side of zilch. AND THEN! (That’s right more excuses) today as I’m leaving to ride to PIR (Uh huh, I rode to PIR!…excuse count 2) I notice my tire is a bit squishy. I’ve been noticing little nicks of glass and it’s been on my mind so I take a closer look. Well wadda know, there is a section of tread missing down to the guts of the tire. I search for a wheel in the garage, but this is a 10 cog so, um, no. I have a 9, can I throw a 9 on there? Not sure, best not risk it. Do I have a tire? Yes, but it’s an all weather beast and it’s on another rim. Best take that. (excuse count 3) Umph, grunt, pull, prod, pump….shit! Pumps not working. Where’s my second pump!? Ah! it’s in the car, with the wife, drat! Hmmmm? How broke is the pump? It seems to get the tire to 50psi and begins to piss air out the side. Have I mentioned that this is the heat of the day and I’m starting to run out of time so the stress level is rising (excuse count 4).
Breath. I’m getting all worked up over nothing. If I don’t make the race who cares. Anyhow, new beast of a tire on, 50psi and I’m off with 45 minutes to get to the race. If I hustle I can make it. I’m pushing hard (excuse count 5)…really hard. Legs burning hard. Some guy (George) hooks on the back. Turns out he’s going to PIR too. Cool. No I mean reeeeally cool. I was going a route I had only gone once and was obviously confused. He showed me the way. Thank you. This was a huge blessing because through the max and bus mall at the rose garden the lights refused to turn. 3 light turns later cyclist began to run them. Darn city lights. Of course this sent my panic state to a new frustrating level.
Anyhow, after all that I make it to the race and find myself hanging out in back with the hairies. (I just made that up…no offense, I realize the absurdity and geekiness of shaving my legs). I’m hurting and hanging on after only two laps. I do spend some time up front. It was interesting. There was this moment of euphoria where it seems my legs popped and not the popped as in we’re done but a clarity, a rejuvenation, a spring. They felt cool and comfortable, strong and willing. I was quickly moving towards the front. Of course this only lasted about 2 or 3 laps but it was pure bliss. Can’t explain it. Well, 5 laps to go I fell back…waaaay back. The last guy said “I’m the last hop on”. I did and then 1/2 laps later I popped. This time it was a pain in the legs kind of pop. There is a side of me that says I could have fought through the pain, I know I’ve done it before but with the ride home, my neck muscles hurting, cramp in my calf, blah blah wine wine. So I popped 5 excuses later.
I did, however, ride home strong. I must say, I was feeling and looking like a racer after a tough race. My legs are getting tan from the riding (mostly commuting) and garden work and the grime from changing the tire, sweat and road debris just added to the post stage race look. It motivated me as I pushed the 12 miles home. It was a cycling geek moment.
