Snow. The white death. Pestilence. Seriously, what the hell? Mid-week of last week I was basking the the glory of finally riding outdoors. The sun was reaching its winter snow reflective glory and was melting down the snow. Come Friday it rained - and a half-inch think layer of ice on the remaining six inches of snow. Then a dusting of snow. Repeat for Saturday morning. "What next?" we seemingly asked Jack Frost, Old Man Winter. "More snow bitches!!" they replied. Non-stop snow from Saturday afternoon til Monday morning. Feet of snow - with and ice layer surprise. Cars stranded in the parking lots, buildings collapsing, events cancelled, schools closing, squirrels saying "WTF?" - but of course we still have classes on Monday. Damn professors all living in town. I blame the Norwegians. Be prepared for someone to ski past with a gun strapped to their back.
Time to put the trainer tires back on the bike and hit the rollers again. Let's see if I remember the whole routine back after a week absence...
1) Stare aimlessly ahead at a white cinder block wall. CHECK!
2) Perilously waver side-to-side, balance upright amidst many sharp-corners - desk, bed post, chair, heater - that will pierce your skull if you should fall down. CHECK!
3) Bike til your naughty bits are numb from the vibration of the rollers and the lack of being able to stand up - limiting your chances of eventually having children CHECK!
4) Ride quietly at 32 mph while not waking up your sleeping neighbors CHECK!
5) Stare out the steamed up window at the menacing frozen abyss CHECK!
The rollers at least give me some sense of cycling enjoyment. Not enough though apparently as I was horribly slow in my outdoor cycling adventures last week. Either the resistance unit needs to learn how to be turned up or I'm sacrificing a towel to be put under the rollers for friction. Poor towel, doesn't know what's coming.
I really just want to get out and ride - and race. I'm pining. As Queen sung - "I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike. I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like." I need that suicidal, homicidal, leg burning, lung busting sport I love. Rollers aren't where the bike is supposed to be. It's out on the road doing lactate threshold intervals, maxing out the heart rate, hill repeats, or even just a good ol' ride to enjoy the countryside. The rollers just leave me unfulfilled. After cycling on the rollers, I towel off, and look at my training schedule, my racing schedule in child-like anticipation. March 18th - races begin, with a race (or two) every weekend up to May 6th. Driving around Iowa, racing my ass off, training my ass off, and somewhere fitting in homework, class, and work. Races...bliss.
