Surviving

There's something to be said for senile men who have been around a sport for decades. I'm trying my best to get myself prepared: finding the nurse so that i can get some good bandages for my arm and hip, also asking for ibuprofen from her and asking for ice from the bar downstairs in order to treat the achy knee and the goose-egg on the hip bone. But once I'm outside and loading my stuff into the team car, he asks me how I'm doing, I say I hurt a bit, and he slaps me on the back with a smile and says, "You won't feel in the race!" (in Spanish/Catalan, but the meaning was clear. I guess this is just how they do it here.

Yeah, he's right. Somehow these injuries only affect walking, sitting, standing, and going up stairs. Once on the bike, they disappear. But before the stage I decided I'd award myself "Sack up" points if I finished the stage with the grupetto and that was my motivation throughout the day.

It started with climbing and we were going up one of the steady, long climbs we do in training, but instead of just mosying along, we were in our big rings going so fast we had to break around corners sometimes (going uphill, mind you). I rarely had a chance to look at what was happening in front, but I'm pretty sure there was a break of 10 or so guys and that put one of the other teams on the defensive, so they were tempoing at the front. I dont' know because I was just trying to hang on for dear life. Apparently it was a very exciting race. I did stay with the main pack long enough to see some of the things I've always wanted to see: team helpers moving up the pack to bring water and food to their leaders and other stuff like that.

I was a lot more cautious today, often tell myself, "Don't F*CK this up now, you've come this far." It's as if there are 1000 dangerousmoments (both physical and tactical) , and if you screw up on any one of em, it will ruin your day. Although in between the two big climbs there were some "rolly" parts, which translates to minute long sprints with the field stretched out single file as people try to hide from the wind. I almost fell back several times, but was able to draft for a moment behind one of the mechanic's cars for just a moment to spring back into the field. I looked at my odometer and realized I was only half way done with the stage, that I had 65 more kilometers to go, and I let out a whimper. By the second climb, I was cashed, and said goodbye to the field and joined a few guys in a grupetto to finish the stage with. A big part of that decision is that I saw one of the Superfroix guys fall back, and since that's one of the continental pro teams, if you can stay with him for the rest of the day you're sure to make it under the time cut. And there were plenty of guys behind me to help form the grupetto throughout the rest of the day.

So, although yesterday was just a bit better as far as pure power output goes, I am happy that I survived another day. I was also happy to do it while ignoring my little injuries. I was able to swindle a massage tonight by hanging around the Cafemax guys. I am still a bit starstruck at the little things... looking outside the hotel window and seeing the professional team mechanics work late into the night washing bikes and cars, the size of everyone's legs... I don't know, the ages range from 18 to 32, but people are only measured in how fast they are. Although I do have suspicions that directors also consider the size of a cyclists' testicles as evidence of potential, as my dad tells me they do with bulls.

power file