The fact that we are exactly, at this very instant, 1 month out from Il Pantani 2018 is hardly noteworthy for you.
As I mentioned earlier, many times, you are screwed. Look at the route. Look at the elevation profile. Look at the guys who are out there killing themselves training already. Now look in the mirror. Racing this thing, by any stretch of the imagination, is out of the question.
Granted, I think you'll have fun anyway, near the middle of the group, cruising along with the mediocre likes of myself, talking shit and telling stories, pacing yourself, making sure you're ready with a proper calf joke for when we see Will Leet walking up brokenback with a headful of lactic acid, like a wobbly newborn pony.
"What does a quarterback say to a cyclist?"
"Hike."
And so forth.
Indeed, that will be fun. But racing? No. We aren't doing that. So there's no need to actually stress about your fitness now. In fact, at this point in my life, just showing up not injured is half the battle. I say...don't prepare...just panic in the final week. Panic is equally effective, and it takes less time.
For now, focus on the fun. Winter riding is one of the best things about Virginia. No bugs. Huge views. But not really any snow either. This place glows in the winter, no matter how grey it might seem on the surface.
Build a trail.
Drink dark beer.
Go see Will Overman with a full band on Saturday at 6 PM at The Ante Room.
And worry not. I've got a thumb on the panic button on your behalf, and I'll let you know when it's time.
Up, up, up.
No comments:
Post a Comment