Hurry Up and Waiting

I have a lot of trouble starting my engine on morning like this, especially when I'm tired from staying up late watching the Olympics. The fact that it's dark now when I get up for the 6:15 ride doesn't help, either. It was already 6 a.m. when I glanced at my watch in-between pump strokes. It had probably been over a week since I'd pumped up the tires on my training wheels and they were both down to around 70 psi. I'm not too obsessive about tire pressure, obviously, but then I get kind of a free pass thanks to being relatively small and light. A big guy on 23mm 70 psi tires probably wouldn't make it two blocks on our fine city streets without a pinch flat. As sluggish as I was, I still had ten minutes in hand when I left, and after so many trips to the levee I knew I'd make it there with a minute or two to spare. Down near the end of Freret St., out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the telltale flicker of a super-bright headlight on the road alongside me. That would be Brady and his helmet-mounted light.

The group today grew quickly to well over a dozen, and after a few miles of warmup the speed started to climb in fits and spurts. I don't really know why it seemed so unsteady this morning, but I did know that a couple of the horses powering the front would probably be turning around early, so I dove right into the rotation. At one point I swung off the front after taking a nice little 27 mph pull, and by the time I went to get back into the paceline I had to ramp it up to 31 just to stay in the draft. The pace never went too far past the limit, but it certainly nudged up against it a few times and it was clearly taking its toll. By the time we were approaching the Dip, a lot of the guys were staying at the back, shepherded I think by Donald who was doing gatekeeper duty midway down the paceline, buffering the surges and keeping the pullers in front of the pullees. As I expected, a few people eased up and turned back at the Dip, so after that the pace got a little more steady for a while until there was the usual long drag race preceding the turnaround.

So anyway, it was a fairly typical ride 40-something mile ride this morning. Back at the house, though, I felt tired and sleepy. Still do.

Right now I'm kind of stuck at work, where its been raining most of the afternoon, waiting for a little break in the weather. Unfortunately, the radar isn't offering a whole lot of hope and I'll probably bite the bullet at some point soon and resign myself to a wet ride home. At any rate, it'll be a better ride, wet or dry, in half an hour when the bulk of the rush hour traffic is off of the city streets and sitting bumper-to-bumper on the interstate. I'll quietly snicker at the long line of red brake lights as I glide across the Jeff Davis overpass, and despite the rain and the delay I'll still be home, dry, and sipping on a glass of cheap Merlot before they pull into their three-car garages. It's all about priorities, you know.