Did That Seem Fast?

I was primed for a good workout. I can't really explain why. Somehow, though, as I rode down the dark streets of Carrollton, I had a feeling it was going to be a fast one. I wonder what combination of cues my brain was reading, but apparently I was not alone. We started out with a good number of riders that included Brett, Tim, Woody, Brady, Erich, Max, Jon, etc. You get the picture. The handwriting was on the wall.

By the time we hit the playground we were already going pretty fast. Brady pulled off the front and then Tim got out of the saddle and, basically, attacked. I had to dig pretty deep to stay with them. After that, I never looked back, but I'm pretty sure that's where the pack split. The paceline was soon whittled down to four or five with a few more hanging on the back. I guess the speed was hovering in the 27 mph neighborhood for a long time, and I was in full wheelsucking mode -- hands on the drops, head low, eyes focused on the four-inch gap between my front wheel and Tim's rear. I was still taking pulls, but the were getting shorter and shorter, despite the fact that I was largely well sheltered on Tim's smooth and stable wheel. Once Tim turned back around The Dip things eased up a little bit, but by then I was already skipping pulls here and there since I knew I didn't have enough cash for a cab ride back from Ormond. When we finally got out to the turnaround I was surprised that there were still a few riders who had been back there all along but who I'd never realized were there. I was impressed.

As we started back down the river, Woody looked back at me and said with a smile, "Did that seem fast to you?" Ahhhh, yeah. We were probably halfway back before I felt reasonably recovered, but regardless, it was just the kind of good workout I'd been looking for.

No work tomorrow, so we're starting the morning ride at the relatively luxurious hour of 7 am.