Heading off this morning was cold. Damn cold, and my legs felt fairly heavy, but I was sure that would correct itself. Going up the hill before Setrights I was still hopeful. Going up the hill towards LIT I knew I was in trouble and this ride was going to hurt, a lot. Coming out of Moyross, Rasher needed a comfort break, I said I woukd keep going, because the way my legs were, I would give up right there, and besides, we were just about to begin the clinb. As some of us know, this hill is no picnic, and the last couple of kms up to the Golf ball, is a balkbreaker and spirit sapper. Rasher soon caught up, uncomforted, and we ploughed on. I believe, personally, that the secret to hill climbing, is to save your gears for as long as possible, but that was not the case today, as just after half way, all my gears were gone, so I had to forge ahead with no reserve, and those horrible kicks to Woodcock to come. As the t junction came into view, I desperately wanted Rasher to keep going straight on, thankfully he didnt, and that awful awful climb continued, but I kept reminding myself over and over again about previous climbs one day in September, and the urge to quit disappeared, and on and on we went, my companion way out in front, climbing like a Herrera or Pantani of times gone by, and eventually, the final kick was crested, mission almost accomplished, done, when we got to the Holy Grail that is the aforementioned spherical object. Afterabout twenty minutes of admiring that awesome view, takng in fluids, couple of pictures, and indeed the comfort stop, the descent began, and just after the tuen for The Gullet, disaster, as Rasher took a heavy tumble, which we both laughed hysterically at, and soon, much quicker than the ascent, we were down, and on a much travelled road towards the Bridge. Now, as a lot of you know, I lije to leave the tougher decisions on the road to others, as to how we get home, and rather than face into that horrible drag from Ministers Cross, we opted to head for Newmarket, then home. I reckon most of us like this road. Good surface, challenging in spots, and well travelled. The hill in Ballycar is well known as not being a favourite, but today I was determined to crack it, but my legs did not seem to want to help, and my gasket blew passing the Patrick Maxwell house, and home could not quick enough. Strangely, rounding the last bend near the memorial, my legs began to work, slightly, and my second wind finally arrived, belatedly. Through Newmarket, up Heart Attack hill, then onto the Drumline interchange, where we took care of the last energy reserves, and we were home. A very tough ride, made tougher by the lack of co-operation from my legs, and a total lack of winds, oddly, but worth doing, especially in the always jovial company of Mike Reidy. Still not loving the hills, but not shying away from them either. And, If I can do it, you can too!
Posted on: Wed, 05 Nov 2014 15:30:28 +0000
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