I'm a full grown man, way past twenty-one

The riders at Wompatuck keep getting younger. Last night there was a good turnout, around 50 riders. It used to be that I knew three fourths of the field by name. Now I guess most of the guys my age have decided that mixing it up with these kids every week is just a little too much. Maybe I should be happy about that... At least I wasn't the oldest guy there. Tommy M. was there for his first time ever; his son Gavin is racing juniors so he brought him down. The entire Coast junior team was there as well, along with many other new faces. The usual suspects, all the MBRC club riders like the Woodsman, Scott R, and Dr. Jim were there, AFHM, and Markie Mark were in attendance, so at least not everyone was a stranger.

The traffic on the way down didn't suck as bad as usual, but I got a ticket on Cushing Street in Hingham for fudging a yellow/red light. Just trying to get there a little earlier to extend the warmup, but there was a Statie sitting right at the intersection, and he wasn't too nice. So that sucked enough to make up for the lack of traffic. The course had dried out since last week, and there wasn't too much mud and debris on it either. Still though, the first few laps, the whirlwind of the pack was kicking up shit everywhere, and the guys with allergies were belly-aching non stop.

Nothing eventful for me, I just sat in and noted how badly my pedal speed has suffered over the winter. All this running and working on my climbing has taken the supplesse (sic?) and sweetness out of my pedal stroke. I don't have speed or cadence on my new bike, so I don't really know, but I was finding myself in the 15 cog when we weren't going super fast. The field did not seem to circulate as much as usual. I guess this is typical of the early summer. The same 10-15 guys were making all the action up front, and everyone else was just doing the motorpace thing. We ended up doing the 25 laps in 1:12 something, so I guess that works out to almost 43 kph average.

After Sunday's pain and agony, I was none too anxious to waste myself up front either. Having run only once in the past week, with the duathlon coming up Saturday, I knew I didn't want wobbly legs today. Still though, I can't sit there all night, so about 12 laps into it I went to the front and tried a one-lap flyer. I never looked back, but I think as usual they spotted me 80 meters and then someone or other gassed it a bit. I made it solo, driving the 14 and 13 almost an entire lap (~3 minutes) when a chase group of 5 came by. I wasn't so spent that I couldn't get on, so I did. No marquis riders in this group, but at first they seemed serious. We probably could have stuck for another lap or two, but one guy blew it apart on the course's only rise, and after that it didn't take long for the cavalry to kill us off.

I sat in for another six laps or so before going back up front for interval number two. This one I attacked really hard, but after only a minute or so a few riders bridged, and the pack got really serious and in no time the first twenty came by single file, really racing. Not sure who was driving it. That was enough for me tonight. The last lap moved pretty well, not sure how fast exactly, but I was spinning out the 14 as we wound it up. I can't sprint with these kids, so I just stay out of the way unless I find a comfortable spot in the train. Riding back to the car I felt really good, not nearly as spent as I felt most nights last year.

During the race, the Woodsman asked if I'd be interested in sneaking out of work some afternoon to golf. Now, knowing he is a member at Black Rock, as much as I like to save my hooky days for training, I'm not about to pass up the opportunity to shank one through Tom Brady's picture window. I can easily miss a day of training and still be satisfied that, unlike most 45 year olds, I consider 18 holes a rest day. A real workout comes on Tuesday nights throwing down with a bunch of fit kids in their twenties. Thanks for reading!