Sunday 10 December 2006

Letting rip

No, I am not talking about farting, or having a go at something stupid. I am talking about that feeling when I am on the home stretch, a clear, straight path in front of me and no breeze or even a slight tail wind. That's when I chunk-chunk-chunk up through the gears until I am close to top gear and the legs are really grinding out the revolutions. Head down, bum up and seeing how fast I can sustain a good speed.

On a normal day, I can sit on around 45 km/h and that is it. Professional cyclists would laugh at me - they maintain that kind of pace for hundreds of kilometres in the Tour, but then they train all year, weigh at least 20 kilos less and have a peleton to drag them along. The difference between riding on your own and riding in a group is amazing - it's no use trying to describe it to someone that hasn't done it. It's not like jogging in a pack - you aren't going fast enough to benefit from the reduction in wind resistance.

Anyway, on a good day, I can crack 50 km/h on the flat and hold it for a few minutes. Then I get home and watch the individual time trials from the last Tour and note that all of the cyclists went faster than that over a 40 km course. Ah well, we does the best we can.

And it doesn't matter if I am not that quick - I still come out at the end feeling very good about it all.

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