Before changing into something a little less different, it would be worth noting that racing, albeit racing badly, essentiofficially ended with the Fall 8 Hour.

I stank as good as I ever did.
Possibly better.

Of course, given the season that I offered, we could endlessly argue that my racing never began.

You would make this result the butt of your poorly constructed joke.
Hardy.  Har.
I would cleverly alter the context in mine mind and agree.
I know it wasn’t, so what am I?

For the purposes of further defecation, that is what it is, what it was, what it will be.

2009.  Race-less.
Less the intent.

The riding, while sporadic and undisciplined, has continued relatively unfettered since September.

Without volume.
Without structure.
Without target.
Without purpose.

Rides that are and were, anything else.
And everything but.

Rides intent on simply not training.
Not racing.

I said I would train.
I needed to train.
I planned to train.

I did NOT.

And THAT, the not that is, I did and did very well.

If there was a high point to this season it would have been January 9.
9 days in and some 38 days out.

That long after the Declaration of Intent (to train, like a real live racer) is when I publicly acknowledged winning the battle against training.

“December 1st I started Joe Friel’s “The Mountain Biker’s Training Bible“.
Very quickly (first 10 pages) I learned how ineffective my current regiment is and how utterly impossible it will be for me to EVER improve based on my ‘it’s just a bike’ approach to riding (among any number of other character flaws).  FAIL.”

The die was cast.
All of this unintentionally.
Perhaps unconsciously.

Fast forward to Saturday October 31.
It was wet and it was dark and it was 08:00.

It was to be a most optimistic ride.
Only three deep.

One was Tom.  One was Dave.  One was me.

Tom is Tom.
Dave is not.

Dave doesn’t rest.  Rests are for the weak.
Dave would just as soon and much rather ride you into the ground and be done.
Dave doesn’t drink or eat unless he is moving.
Dave isn’t social.  Riding isn’t Twitter.

THIS is one of only two stops ALLOWED during the entire 3.5hrs.
Allowed because I stopped.  Just stopped.

Tom, eyes clenched tight (to protect against flying bone ), prepares a jugular jab…something Dave was not expecting.

This is what spent looks like just before the stroke of 11:59.  And spent is what it’s about.

I will not promise to train.
I will just ride more.
I will.
Sometimes fast.  Sometimes long.  Sometimes.

Anyone interested in a barely used copy of the MTB’s Training Bible???

This entry was posted on Monday, November 2nd, 2009 at 16:53 and is filed under General Stuff, Training. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.