It was a gorgeous day, and there were a tonne of people on the road today. 8 degrees and sunny in the middle of February? Go figure. I took my new bike out for a spin around the basin this afternoon (this, after a 2 hour nap necessitated by a killer hour-long interval workout with “Swim Coach”: aka. Stalin). As the bike is new and I don’t have a Cat-Eye, or any other type of cadence/speed /wind speed/temperature/rate of perceived exertion versus actual exertion / road kill counter / calorie expenditure-measuring device on the bike, it was just me and the open road. It’s a freeing feeling to ride without a bike computer. Wait, I’ll admit it, I’m a numbers junkie, and I took my HRM, so at least I had a little bit of feedback. I was
so happy to be outside, vertiginous, even. (Although that may have been the lack of sleep after going to bed way too late last night).
Did I mention that it’s February? And that I was riding outside? Ok, ok. So, my boyfriend has been riding outside all winter. Road and off. But I’m a wuss. I dislike subjecting myself to vile winds and hell-has-frozen-over type temperatures. It makes your brain freeze and your appendages go all numb.
It really felt like spring. Mostly, because of the sheer number of road kill I passed. The first was a poor squirrel who no doubt was off to the nearest tree to uproot some buried acorns. Poor thing. It’s a rather bittersweet confession to say that by the fifth squished raccoon, I was pretty desensitized to the gory sight of road kill. You really get a firsthand look at general murine anatomy when you’re road riding. Yup.
Since I’ve been home after my ride, I’ve been eating, eating, and…well eating. Base training has jacked up my metabolism to the point of insanity. 3-4 hours a day of workouts means that I consume nearly my own body weight in food. Sometimes I mix the strangest things together in an effort to
just…get…fed. Have you ever tried eating curry rice with one hand, and spooning peanut butter out of the jar with the other? I’m an edacious fool.
Back to the ride. I knew I was tired already from the pool, but Thursday is interval day, and I wanted to get a bunch of short-burst work in today.
The workout went like this: I took every hill at a sprint. Every time a car passed me I’d kick it into high gear for 5-10 seconds just to get the HR up. I played fartlek for about an hour. To the “blind child” sign, go! Heart rate surges to 169…ok, made it. Recover back to 120. Now to the top of that hill, go! Heart rate creeping up past 170. Went screaming past more roadkill. Oy. It was a tough workout, even though it was less than 2 hours. My legs were starting to cramp by the end of the ride, which is always a riot. I was covered in road grime by the end, and smiling my face off.
50 odd kilometres later, showered, relaxed and basking in the afterglow of a day of tough workouts. Out on the road, pushing yourself beyond your limits as often as you can makes you stronger, faster, and less likely to keck every time you see a flatted squirrel. Ok, I made up the squirrel bit.
