Why is it some rides are just utterly brutal for no apparent reason? I had one of those rides yesterday morning, and I’m still baffled by it. Why? It was barely a ride at all.
I’m not talking about bonking it the middle of a long, hard ride here, this was a 6.6 mile commute that kicked my ass worse than any century ride I’ve ever done. I was feeling fine when I left, but about a mile into the commute it just felt like my legs were dying and my lungs were refusing to take in any oxygen. I felt like puking twice on the ride, and the most stressful part of the ride is the whopping 40 foot “hill” in the middle. By the time I got to work, I was gasping for air, dripping with sweat, and wobbling on unsteady legs. It was like I ate some bad oysters in a sweat lodge.
What the hell? I can do this ride when I’m quite literally sick and tired. I can do it in 105 degree temperatures. I can do it while toting 20 pounds of clothes, lunch, and other gear in my bag. Why could I barely do it yesterday morning?
I guess these are just the little mysteries of life that help keep cycling interesting. Or maybe it’s just my fat ass telling me I really need to get serious about the training again. Whatever it was, next time just send me an email.
[crossposted from my main site, The Bramble]