I briefly flirted with the idea of riding solo and easy today (TBH, I flirt with that idea every day). But then I read a story in Outside magazine about staying uber-fit past the age of 50. It said the key is…our old friend HIIT. Outside used to be my primary writing home, and I published some of my best stories there. So out of loyalty I followed its advice and rode to the start, not really knowing who to expect (if anyone).
If Monday turnout has been up and down in 2021, today it was up, way up. Not in terms of numbers, necessarily, though there was a solid group of at least 8 riders (including Nailgun, who I hadn’t seen in a long while). But definitely in terms of quality. The Sheriff was there. Everest was back. Lambo was on the scene (on a replacement bike, unfortunately, as his entire bike collection had been stolen from his home this past weekend—for the second time(!) ). The Mayor’s Brother (TMB) turned up. And PowerBoy was ready to go another round. I had to check my phone to make sure it wasn’t Tuesday.
Before the rollout, and before all the hitters showed up, Everest told me he had never ridden a Monday ride, and asked what it was like. “Mellow Monday” I told him, in a wholly self-interested attempt to set the right tone for the ride. But once the full group was assembled I knew were were likely in for some serious effort. PowerBoy naturally went to the front on the Bradley section, which is usually a warm-up. But as we know, PowerBoy does not waste a watt. We were rolling fast from the get-go. The Sheriff took his turns out front, too, but with his easy, high-cadence style he looks as if he is barely trying. I was definitely trying, and sitting in with resolve. By the time we pulled up at the Seven Locks light, gulping air, Everest turned to me and said “Mellow Monday, huh?” He had me there.
At this intensity level I knew even Kentsdale Hill could do me damage. I settled in mid-pack, and was happy to find PowerBoy’s wheel. While PowerBoy drives a huge diesel that can grind me into dust on the flats, or a slight rise, I find its climbing gear to be tolerable. It is also super-steady, with no surges or inconsistencies. Just how I like it. And a bonus virtue of PowerBoy’s wheel on a climb is that you can be sure that if any gap opens on him he will close it down steadily once the climb flattens out. So if you are with him you have some insurance.
The ride through the neighborhood to River Rd. stayed high-intensity, and I started to wonder why I listen to Outside magazine. There are plenty of little kickers, flats and turns that demand focus and resilience. I found myself behind by a new Coppi rider, who was wearing a pink jersey. Big Pink was strong, but a bit surge-y. So I was frequently on and off the power, and never totally comfortable. During the left turn onto Persimmon I repositioned just behind the rotation group (by this point The Sheriff, PowerBoy, TMB, Lambo, Everest, and Big Pink had revealed themselves to be the strong men of the group, and willing to work). That was a bit better, but I still had to navigate the constant movement of cyclists just in front of me, which is an art in itself.
Just like Friday, PST was beneath our wheels at a steady 28 to 30-plus. While it still felt like a fast Tuesday or Wednesday ride to me, none of the guys up front seemed particularly pressed. For them perhaps it really was a Mellow Monday. This led to a thought (to distract myself from my abject weakness): perhaps, in early July, we are closing in on peak Thrasher. As I have said before, the Thrasher Ride from Spring into Summer is like an accelerating train. You have to get fast enough to jump on, and if you wait too long it is going faster and faster and gets harder and harder to jump on (and stay on!). Once you are on, if you keep coming out consistently, you stay on, and you get faster as the train gets faster.
At some point during the summer, though, when everyone’s fitness is peaking, the train hits its top speed, and then slowly starts to decelerate into Fall and Winter. Call it the Thrasher Solstice. Today, I realized that the train is probably nearing its top speed. It may get a touch faster through July. But it is going pretty damn fast, and could be nearing the Solstice. Or, at least I am hoping that is the case, because I am just barely able to hang on (and in fact often don’t hang on).
Having processed all this over the length of Persimmon, I then decided that I would hop off the train at Oaklyn (a cool, relaxing, pool party beckoned). Clinging to the back of the train on Oaklyn’s rollers and kickers would have put me at the limit (and there was no chance of surviving the full GFP Climb). And in 2021, nearing 60 and with Jay Moglia’s sad demise due to a heart attack on the bike on my mind, I am resolved to be kind to my heart. I will work it, and interval it (per Outside). But I will also spare it the stress of being in Zone 5 for extended efforts. That’s a zone of suffering, for both it and me, that I no longer find much fun or reward in. These days, I feel better, and I enjoy riding more, when the excursions to Zone 5 are more brief than interminable. So I waved goodbye and spun home, hoping that I can soon celebrate the Thrasher Solstice.
I’ll be out for the Tuesday ride. Maybe that will be like Friday (though I doubt it).
Relative Effort: 82
Miles Ridden This Year: 1973 (closing in on 2000…)
Strava Fitness #: 55 (the Thrasher Train really requires 60-plus)
A Headline You Rarely See: “Police Shoot Driver Who Struck Cyclists”:
The driver of a pickup truck hit a group of cyclists at a bicycle race in Show Low, Ariz., on Saturday, seriously injuring seven people before the driver fled and was shot by the police, the authorities said.
The driver of the truck, a black Ford Super Duty, struck the bicyclists during Bike the Bluff, a benefit race, at about 7:25 a.m. local time, the police said.
Officers tried to stop the driver, which “ultimately led to the suspect being shot,” about a mile and a half away, Navajo County Emergency Management and Preparedness said in a statement.
Old School:
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