The Weekends are Just Packed
The flood planes of the Missouri river stretched out for miles paralleling America's first wine district in the wet, green rolling landscape. In many respects, this area looked a lot like German countryside, vineyards accenting the hillsides, old, small church steeples breaking up the little town centers that weren't more than 10k apart from each other. If it weren't for the unnecessarily loud F-150's flying down highway 94, the two regions are almost indistinguishable. Even the roads and town names, like Schleusberg and Femme Osage, were very Euro-style.
Over the last few days, I was really wondering if this event was going to be a good idea. I've been consistently racing for several weekends now, pouring large amounts of my precious free time into my sport. Last week, the Joe Martin Stage Race went quite well where I ended up placing 2nd overall and getting all kinds of good racing experience, but the Vino Fondo in Augusta, MO didn't really count toward a whole lot as far as racing was concerned. I'd also been feeling sick, possibly do to the huge influx of pollen in the air lately, and hadn't completely gotten over it by the time my alarm indicated it was time to get my Saturday started.
This ride really didn't turn out the way I was expecting. I felt kinda numb for the first 30 miles; my legs were giving me little feedback but I was averaging some reasonable speeds. I was really hoping to get in with a good sized pelaton and cruise and chat the miles away, but this never happened. The few riders that did register for the full length Fondo quickly got spread out. I rode along with one other fellow from New Zealand who was using this as training for his upcoming Ironman. We pulled each other along for a good number of miles but before long I realized he had no interest in stopping for things like food and pee breaks so I was back by myself again by the time I crossed back over the river.
I hit a number of walls, mental and physical, and often had to forget about the number of miles I had already ridden and just turn my brain off. About 5.5 hours in, my body had pretty well settled into its fat burning stage and that really got me through the last 30 miles and several thousand feet of climbing.
So now, for not the first time in the last 7 days, I'm taking a recovery day because I'm sick again. (I wonder why). Next weekend holds great promise of several days of high speed, deep fielded crit racing with St. Louis's Tour de Grove and Dutchtown Classic. Now if I could ever actually get in some training rides outside of the weekend, that would be fantastic.
Over the last few days, I was really wondering if this event was going to be a good idea. I've been consistently racing for several weekends now, pouring large amounts of my precious free time into my sport. Last week, the Joe Martin Stage Race went quite well where I ended up placing 2nd overall and getting all kinds of good racing experience, but the Vino Fondo in Augusta, MO didn't really count toward a whole lot as far as racing was concerned. I'd also been feeling sick, possibly do to the huge influx of pollen in the air lately, and hadn't completely gotten over it by the time my alarm indicated it was time to get my Saturday started.
This ride really didn't turn out the way I was expecting. I felt kinda numb for the first 30 miles; my legs were giving me little feedback but I was averaging some reasonable speeds. I was really hoping to get in with a good sized pelaton and cruise and chat the miles away, but this never happened. The few riders that did register for the full length Fondo quickly got spread out. I rode along with one other fellow from New Zealand who was using this as training for his upcoming Ironman. We pulled each other along for a good number of miles but before long I realized he had no interest in stopping for things like food and pee breaks so I was back by myself again by the time I crossed back over the river.
I hit a number of walls, mental and physical, and often had to forget about the number of miles I had already ridden and just turn my brain off. About 5.5 hours in, my body had pretty well settled into its fat burning stage and that really got me through the last 30 miles and several thousand feet of climbing.
So now, for not the first time in the last 7 days, I'm taking a recovery day because I'm sick again. (I wonder why). Next weekend holds great promise of several days of high speed, deep fielded crit racing with St. Louis's Tour de Grove and Dutchtown Classic. Now if I could ever actually get in some training rides outside of the weekend, that would be fantastic.
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