Two Wheel Blogs

Route: Belk Park Loop
Time: 1:02
Miles: 18.1
Pace: 17.5 mph

Riding Tunes: Afro-Celtic Sound System

I love the days when I can work from home because it allows me to ride first thing in the morning. Sure, any day I have to go into the office, I could get up early, say 5:00 a.m., to ride before commuting to St. Louis. But I know myself well enough to say with some authority "Ain't gonna happen." But when I work from home, I can roll out of bed, suit up, hit the trail, and be back in an hour, logged in and ready to work. It's the way life's meant to be.

It was still cool when I headed out at 7:00 a.m. I'd not ridden Tuesday or Wednesday, so I was rested -- though I did stay up too late last night watching SPACED, the British TV series starring Simon Pegg. I was curious to see how well I'd recovered from Monday night's St. Charles ride. I wasn't out to set a new PR on the Belk Park Loop, but I was hoping for a sub-60. I should have that in me, shouldn't I?

Maybe my body wasn't fully awake. Maybe I should have eaten something (I didn't). Maybe I was still feeling the effects of Monday's ride. Maybe I the stubble from my legs is creating too much drag (I need to shave). For whatever reason, I couldn't get it going this morning.

As I headed down the flat and shaded Watershed Trail, I was moving okay, but I knew I should be going faster. "Maybe I'll pick it up on the Moreland climb," I told myself. When I turned right onto Moreland, I knew I should get up in the pedals to build some speed. But I didn't. Again, my pace was okay, but not where it needed to be. I knew this, but I did nothing to change it.

It's funny ... having something inside and not being able to bring it out. I knew I had the energy reserves to spend, but I could not access them. On Monday's ride, when I needed to dig deep to pull the pace line or to maintain contact, I could do it. Through will or determination, whatever, I was able to reach inside and make myself do what I needed to do. That was in the context of a group ride, and I was supremely motivated to stay with the group and pull my fair share of the load. But this morning, without something outside of myself, just riding against a time goal, I could not find the same motivation. The fuel was there to burn; I just couldn't ignite it.

Riders get used to seeing all kinds of strange things on the shoulder, mostly roadkill at various stages of decay. As I climbed Moreland, I saw a package of hamburger buns that, I assume, had fallen from someone's car or truck. As I rode on a little further, I came upon a second package of hamburger buns. Someone's 4th of July picnic is going to be ruined or, more likely, someone's going to make another trip back to the store.

I got up Moreland and headed east toward Belk, then turned south through the park. When I emerged on the other side, I allowed myself a glance at my Cat's Eye: 40 minutes. This would not good. Not if I wanted to break 60 minutes. I tried to pick up the pace, hoping will and a favorable wind would push me home in 19 minutes. I pedaled, I pushed, I pumped. I stood up for the short climbs. I shifted to the big chain ring for the downhills and flats. I did everything I could -- check that, I did everything I felt like doing -- to pick up the pace. But I was drifting. My focus wasn't there. Riding down one stretch, my mind wandered off to some work-related issue. As I weighed options for solving a problem, it occurred to me: "Dummy, you're supposed to be pushing to the finish!" Instead, I was just pedaling along, thinking about work. "Well, there goes the sub-60."

I finished the ride, and I did try to finish fast and strong. I knew my time would be over 60, but it didn't have to be very much over 60. So I pushed myself as much as I could, and as I rolled to a stop in the drive, the Cat's Eye showed me 1:02. That's okay. I deserved it. It's what I was able to ride this morning. I'm sure I could've ridden it faster, but I did not make myself. So 1:02 is what it was.