Almost Normal, But Then...

Sunday Giro in the Fog

It was looking like it would be an almost normal week. We were scheduled to be back to work on Tuesday, the weather was all over the place (which is normal, right?), the holidays were almost over (12th Night was Thursday), and the first of the winter training rides was booked for Saturday. What could go wrong?

Things were going great on Thursday, until they weren't.

Tuesday morning was cold and I went out with long tights and wool socks and multiple layers to meet the morning levee ride group. Turnout up there was pretty normal and although a few turned back early, which is also normal, we still had a decent group doing the full ride out to Ormond. Everything was normal on the way out. And then we started back. We hadn't even gotten to St. Rose when Scott flatted and he and Rich put their frozen fingers to work fixing it. Neither could find anything in the tire, so we continued on with the new tube - until it went flat again. This time we removed the tire entirely from the rim and turned it inside-out and inspected is carefully as our sweaty body temperatures started to fall. Still couldn't find anything, so we put in another tube and continued. Three or four miles later it was going flat again. A couple of the guys couldn't wait any longer because of work and continued while we inspected the tire and changed the tube again. A couple of miles later it was going flat again. At that point we tried just pumping in more CO2 a couple of times but it wasn't getting us more than a mile or so at a time. Eventually we got Scott about to Jefferson Playground and Rich headed home to get his car and mount the rescue mission as I headed home completely frozen. It was what I'd call a ClusterFlat.

Wednesday's WeMoRi was considerably warmer and a good workout for me but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. Likewise, the Thursday levee ride was smooth and steady and flat-free. That evening we walked down to the Willow Street Streetcar Barn to watch the Phunny Phorty Pfellows start their traditional Twelfth Night streetcar ride. It was warm and there was a pretty good crowd there despite the fact that they were again not allowing anyone to congregate right at the barn itself, which really did nothing but push the crowd one block down the street. So with the Christmas decorations still in place, the Mardi Gras season began, complete with a nice real French style King Cake from the bakery on Maple Street.

That evening Tulane sent out an email essentially telling everyone to work remotely until the 21st since COVID cases have been surging. I guess the idea is to get the numbers down before the students start back on the 23rd. I am cautiously optimistic that this surge will be relatively short-lived, by which I mean 4-6 weeks rather than 8-12. My averages have been coming down for a few days but they are now complicated by the growing number of people doing their own in-home antigen tests which are not reported. I have definitely had more people I know test positive, and a number of them get pretty sick, in the past month than I've had the entire rest of this pandemic. 

The Omicron variant is spreading quickly and easily and is hitting vaccinated and unvaccinated alike. Friday evening we went to Ruth's Chris Steak House (where I had fish) with Candy's sister and brother in law to kind of celebrate finally almost wrapping up her mother's estate. It was kind of loud in there, so a little difficult to hear the conversation, and of course the prices were ridiculous as usual. As I was pouring the last of the wine into my glass I was thinking, "This probably isn't the best preparation for that 75 mile ride tomorrow." 

It wasn't.

Saturday morning on the northshore it was still pretty chilly at 8:30 and significantly windy. The gate to the ballpark was still closed so we parked along the entrance road, which was fine except for the lack of bathroom access. I dressed for the start, which turned out to be a mistake because it warmed up a whole lot. Rather than the thermal bib knickers I should have gone with shorts and knee-warmers. The long sleeve Gore base layer would also turn out to be a bit much underneath my long-sleeve jersey, and the vest I started with was in my pocket before we were ten miles down the road. From the start my legs were feeling achy, and with only five of us after Randy turned back early I knew it was going to be a long ride for me. Chris and Dan were feeling good and by the time we were up past Pine gaps were opening up between them and Charles, Steve, and me on some of the little climbs. It wasn't too bad, and I could tell they were holding back a bit to keep us close, but with only five of us it wasn't really possible to limit the effort like it would be with a larger group. I was kind of disappointed that I wasn't feeling better for this ride, though, because I really like the route up to State Line from the Lee Road ballpark. For most of the ride I was feeling fine in the draft and even on the front, but every time there was a little bit of a climb my legs would start to load up after thirty or forty pedal strokes. I really couldn't explain it considering how easy Friday's ride had been. Maybe it was just all that expensive wine from the night before.

The weather forecast for Sunday was not looking good Saturday evening. Although the temperature would be way up in the 70s, they were predicting a lot of rain starting at 6 am, so I was fully expecting the Sunday Giro to be a washout. When the alarm went off at 5:20 am I checked the weather radar and it was practically clear. The rain chances had also been lowered into the teens. Go figure. So I headed out to the Giro in summer kit on the 9th of January. The street was damp and there was quite a bit of fog as I rode to Starbucks, and I wondered how many would show up. I'd heard that Saturday's Giro had been pretty fast, so it wouldn't take much to convince people to stay in bed. Fortunately there was a decent turnout. A bit smaller than normal but enough to keep it from feeling like a time trial. 

As we rolled out I could tell that the fog was getting thicker. A few people turned back because of that but most continued on, perhaps a bit more cautiously than usual. Visibility on Chef Highway was pretty low, but fortunately so was the traffic volume, and with about twenty flashing tail lights I never felt very worried about it. With some people still licking their wounds from the long gravel race in Mississippi on Saturday the pace for this Giro was fairly steady and I don't think anyone was having any trouble with it. Although I could certainly feel some soreness in my quads from Saturday's ride, it wasn't enough to cause a problem and so I probably did a bit more work than usual.

At home I spent some time Friday night fixing the drain on the old concrete sink in the basement. Nothing there is lined up right and nothing there is able to be adjusted either. Also, the drain pipe is this old style flared fitting for which they no longer make gaskets, so I had to improvise with a not really right gasket and a ton of silicone seal. In the end, I think I got it all fixed without any leaks, so we'll see how long that lasts. Everything in this house moves depending on how much moisture is in the ground and how many big trucks rumble over the bumps on S. Claiborne, and so we just keep buying silicone seal and hoping for the best!