wow, good luck!

July 5th

Today would be very uneventful compared to my great start yesterday. I am currently performing Godspell with my church theater group, so in the morning we traveled to a church in Philadelphia to sing and worship, and then had a tech rehearsal until 7:30. I ate dinner as soon as I got home, even though I could have ridden for an hour or so. My goal was to watch the tour in bed for a bit, and then set up the trainer in the living room and do at least an hour. (You can probably guess where this is going already). I laid down and exhaustion took over. No miles for me today!

Half tour total: 61.1 miles
My total: 44 miles

Blast, Cancellara retains yellow. But I see Cavendish is still the fastest man at the end of a race!

"On the Way to Cape May"

I know that song I once dated a Jersey Girl.
You have to take your inspiration wherever you can find it.
Now I've got one for you:
"Get your kicks on Route 66"

Destination L.A. Good Luck!

PoC

July 6th

Marseille to La Grande-Motte for the Tour today, a trip over unknown back roads for me. I knew this was going to be a solo ride, as everyone else seems to be dragging on Monday. Luckily, every day for me is a weekend! I set off to the north toward French Creek State Park, a regular destination for my medium rides. Instead of following a known route, I decided to ride vaguely based on the sun and a general feeling of direction. This method of navigation has always been my preference, compared to following a cue sheet or some commonly repeated route. Quite quickly I found myself on Horseshoe Trail, a wooded and fairly quiet road that meanders across several major roads.

The tour riders found their peloton shattered by strong winds on open roads today. I faced a much different fate, tucked into the woods on winding roads replete with rollers and some short but steep climbs. Nothing to get excited about, but just enough variance to keep the ride interesting. On my way home, I found myself riding on Route 23, one of the busier roads in the area. There were wide shoulders, but I quickly grew weary of traffic buzzing by me as I slogged along the open corridor.

I attempted to cut south at one point, and was stopped by a kindly old man who informed me the road ahead was an utter mess. Apparently they were chipping and sealing, so there would be no way through without tarring up my bike. He offered me a rutted gravel road as an alternative, and told him I would prefer to turn around and find a different way. "Just a few extra miles!" I said as I left him behind. However, by this point in the ride, I was noticing a persistent pain in my shoulders and elbows. It was not a particularly strong or sharp pain... but persistent. No matter how much I told myself that arms are not supposed to be the limiting factor during a ride, the little voice in my head could not make the little pain in my arms go away.

I got back slightly earlier than planned, but I was not disappointed. The Grande-Motte finish today was one of the coolest rides I have ever seen! I have always dreamed about a team being so strong that they could simply pull away from the front of the peloton and put minutes into the rest of the field, and that is basically what happened. Of course, the gusting winds are what opened up the gaps, but the Columbia gang was operating like a machine, and managed to drag Lance and others ahead of the other competitors. The fact that Lance might be able to take yellow tomorrow kept me very excited to continue this journey.

Only 34.6 miles today, not enough to keep pace!

Half tour total: 121.8 miles
My total: 78.6 miles

It's July 9, you are missing a couple posts or riding days:)

heh, sorry for the delay all. Too much time icing my legs I suppose!

July 7th

TTT today! Well not for me exactly, but it was a perfect day for some paceline action. There is a group of riders that leaves West Chester at 5:30 for a quick 20 mile jaunt, so I decided to ride the 9 miles there as a warm up. Of course I left later than planned, because I am late for everything in my life. I don't think it is actually an affinity for being late, but rather a particular dislike for being on time.

The start time still seemed achievable, but I didn't want to be late because I did not know the route. And so, I found myself bombing down the hills, riding like a man possessed (I suppose like Armstrong or Cancellara on this day). At one point I found myself hammering uphill alongside a motorcycle at 30 mph. This was only possible, of course, because the uphill was preceded by a rather steep decent. Nonetheless, my effort made the motorcyclist shout, "That's a hell of a pace you've got there!" I relaxed my some-nutty-motorist-is-screaming-at-me death grip, and smiled at the novelty that he had something nice to say. This lifted my spirits and lightened my legs as finished the last two miles. I got into town with 20 minutes to spare.

The Tuesday night ride, as it turns out, is the affectionately named "Hammerfest". I had joined this group once or twice last season, but I forgot the moniker until tonight. We had a rather small group of 15-20 riders, all of varying abilities. Some of the slower riders left first because they knew they would be caught as the ride went on. The really funny thing was how many additional cyclists we picked up as the ride progressed. It seems that at every intersection one or two spandex clad heroes was waiting for us, and joined the pace line. The hammerfest follows the same route every week so people join for as long as they can, and don't worry about being dropped.

The pace started out slow, so I hopped on the front and lifted the tempo. Holding this pace throughout some rollers, I was feeling swell until pulling off the lead and immediately falling 20 yards behind my small group. They rode off into the distance, and I was left on a solo struggle for the next mile or so. Reeling in the group at an intersection, I decided to curtail my efforts on the front, and ride an even sensible pace. Despite this, my legs felt blown apart from my fast warm up and early effort. Instead of riding like Lance and Fabian, I modeled myself after Ryder Hesjedal: clinging onto the back of Garmin's four superstars, never pulling, never leading, but staying with the group and getting the job done.

I opted against the climb back into West Chester, and took my own flatter route back to Exton where I live. Exhausted and unsure exactly where I was, I followed the sun home. Slowly.

Today: 44.4 miles
Half tour total: 133.6 miles
My total: 123 miles