Just About That Time of Year
The sun is shining, the weather warm and dry, and I can smell that aerosol perfumery that is sunscreen. Life is good in Norcal. As I sit her penning this fine mess of an article it has dawned on me that it’s just about that time of year to dust of the ‘cross bike, scrabble together an early season training program of sorts and get my body on track back to racing shape – if that’s what one can call it.
Luckily, I have kept the training program the manager from my old Team Wheelsmith days put together for me. Man, that cat was magic. He was the strongest rider, the strongest rider who spent fewer hours on the bike than anyone I knew or know, for that matter. I reiterate – a magician. The program is so simple that even though I have the old beer coaster he wrote it on in my possession, I really don’t need to look at it to remember the plant to a T. But, and there is always a but, I just finished writing it up and printed out three copies; one for my day planner, one for the refrigerator and one for the door to the bike cave, just so I have to think as little as possible. Now, I could divulge my program in full transparency but that seems a little over the top. What I will do is suggest the parameters in as vague a way as possible: there are 2 easy/off days, 2 speed work/interval days, 1 tempo day, 1 long smile and spin day, and 1 complete day of rest. Pretty simple, no? I agree.
As I mentioned in my last piece, I have been sick and therefore resting. Rest is good. The legs feel good. But with me, where rest is concerned, there is also a touch of over, um, indulging in the food department. So while my legs feel good and rested my belly is a touch swole, my kit a bit tight, all making my journey back to that elusive racing shape a bit harder to, well, stomach – if you catch my drift. But, like the title suggests, it is just about that time of year. Come Monday the program begins, resumes, whatever one wants to call it, and one might be lucky enough to spy my slightly porcine (for me) figure stuffed into my kit and huffing about Marin County trimming the fat. Or waiting a few weeks might be better for those of you who may have a weaker constitution – your call.
It is always hard to start knowing how far the road is … sometimes … but start we must. And sometimes, like setting off on a ride that might be particularly long and grueling, reaching the end of that road is the grandest feeling of all. I mean, that is why we ride bikes, right?