We returned from Long Island in time to do the Wednesday ride. As we traveled back we were hearing reports of a heat wave in Dallas. Funny, New Yorkers were complaining about their 90 degrees, they get no sympathy from us. Wednesday turned out quite nice for the stalwarts who rode (Michael, Greg, Kevin, Caryn and myself) The temps were a NY like 90 and felt quite cool, everything being relative. It seems as it was so hot last week that everyone did just a tempo ride to avoid any spontaneous combustion. Paul Sherwin is always commenting on "using up your matches" and I think in this heat that just riding is "dipping in the suitcase of courage" for all of us.
When Caryn and I were staying with the Pollio family in Charlotte NC (the day after the crit race, we just missed it) Caryn refused the incessant offers of food (the Italians know how to cook!) I, on the other hand, never want to hurt the feelings of the host and had numerous helpings of the baked ziti. The Pollio's daughters were the ones who got Caryn involved in the cross-country team in high school, so she was well aware of this family's epicurean delights (Caryn refused the food back then, too.) As I look back, I'm now thinking that Caryn was planning something by not eating as much as I did.
Our Wednesday ride was the usual affair, Michael leading us out and calling out every obstacle, car, pothole and calling me out on poor traffic avoidance (seems I am always in the way of little old ladies trying to turn on Skillman.) Kevin is always attempting breakaways and Greg...well he sees a pretty girl in the bike path and is too distracted and goes cross-country into the grass.
We get to Loving and Caryn seems very focused. We start climbing the first one and I immediately feel a bit slow (that 16 oz steak her uncle cooked for me) then I finally get her wheel at the top (where the crazy euro guy has put his bicycle part "editorials" in the trees and bushes.)
She climbs the second hill at a good even tempo, then descends like crazy. I'm following and I'm trying to shed all those lox and bagels I've had. The last hill I'm just about on her wheel and she hears that "whuum, whuum, whuum" sound of me behind her and sprints away. The baked ziti has done me in and she knew it! Why else would someone, two days before, turn down some really good food? Caryn has as much admitted so.
Greg's little foray into the grass was at the end before we stopped to refill our water bottles, then he headed home.
We rode back on University with visions of city limit signs to be won. This time I did everything to perfection, except getting to the intersection just as it turned red. "No guts no glory" as Caryn said, Michael opted for a "DQ'd" heaped my way.
Till next week...