This morning's training session was a rip-snorter. Coach Daryl kept us going so we didn't get cold. Not much danger of that. The 50 lap warmup was even jiggier than usual courtesy of Ray "The Professor" and Miss Steph "accidentally" running a 94inch gear from the get-go. Warmup comfort factor was further diminished by a dodgy saddle setup. CD has managed to ratchet my saddle up to the point where it's more than 40mm higher than I ride on my road bike. Combined with a brutally up-hill saddle angle this made for some interesting peddling.
A couple of entries, quick saddle adjustment, whack on a big gear and we're into it.
My heart-rate regularly dipping into the 170's I don't dare venture too far from the puke bin. Some days my legs do just as I ask, and this was one of them. Smash into those pedals and the bike just goes forward. No squares here, just flying arcs of kickarse fun.
Jumping off the top of the track already in the high forties, I swoop at the two hundred metre line like a wedgie on a rabbit kitten. I leave nothing but a stray puff of grey fur. Hooking into a team sprint I realise I'm going 50kph and no more than a hand's width off the tyre in front of me.
It's mornings like this I know just why I love being on a bike so much. For these two hours I become something other than a ganglanky biped. I'm spinning circles, in circles in glorious circles. Now I just need to find somewhere to lay-down for a while to stop twitching.