After shattering like a Porcelain toilet dropped from an eighth story window on Wednesday AM's hill ride with Kevin I began wondering whether I am just going to get more and more tired and slow or if my fitness will somehow bounce back and I'll find my self sort of fast again.
Today's ride made me feel like I might have something going on in those appendages which hang in a very often uncooperative fashion off my pelvis. At least on flat to rolling roads. I left from Wrentham with the goal of covering fifty miles or riding for three hours, which ever came first. Due to some getting turned around business I wound up with 57 miles in three hours in the wind and 85° heat. Which is good for me. I usually lack motivation to pedal fast on the road for no apparent reason.
I can say that I have never taken notice of my body producing more sweat than I produced today. It was nutty. I drank and drank and for hours after the ride and I did not pee. It is part the New England condition to constantly complain about the weather. I hate 44° and rainy, or sleety, other than that, bring it. It can't be too hot as far as I'm concerned. I reveled in every drop of sweat falling on my bike while my legs cooked in the sun.
I know my way around the environs of Wrentham pretty well...not well enough not to get totally lost. I kept turning down roads which kept the wind in my face or at my side for the first three quarters of the ride. Or taking streets which were named "Maple" or "Cottage", not "Center" or "Main". I didn't have a map and most of the time I had no idea where I was. Good thing my only appointment was with two little people and some S'mores late in the afternoon.
I think Adam Myerson once used this a victory salute while wearing this jersey