Cycling can be a fickle sport – mostly because many cyclists are fickle characters – especially when regarding their ‘form’, or lack of. This is lessened amongst Mountain Bikers. Technique doesn’t diminish too much with a few days off. But for the performance minded Marathon Mountain Biker, training counts. And missed days hurt.
With an uncanny ability to have a stomach bug and not lose weight, when the weekend rolled around and my body was clear of its ailment… it was time to go and make up for lost time. PT Brock and I were rolling a road ride on Saturday morning, and the differences to three months ago are brutally apparent. Fresh off his Road National Championships, PT is flying.
“Right, first turn” He said as we rolled from the cafe, indicating that he wanted to put in a good effort at the front of the bunch on the way out of town. “If you can put me in the box I’ll buy you a coffee. But I’m not going to back off unless I see you bleed out of your ears.”
Nice words of encouragement.
That turn left me in tatters for the rest of the ride, but the weekend did not ease up from there. With about four weeks to go until the Otway Odyssey, and 62 days until the ABSA Cape Epic, quality mountain bike training is essential. And putting myself a little deeper in the ‘hurt box’ was the plan for Sunday. Who better to help with such a task than MarathonMTB.com Elite rider Graeme Arnott – Aad where else would we head for a hard day than Wiseman’s Ferry and the Old Great North Road?
The location was set, the training partner locked in, all we needed now was legs and luck. Thankfully these both came through well enough. The ride was tough, with Arnott leading the charge in a similar way to Justin Morris back on a similar training day in late Spring. However we both avoided falling into stagnant water, unlike the unfortunate Morris.
Under a searing sun the trail was completed incident free.No mechanicals, no hissy fits, no hunger flats. Despite dozens of spiderwebs we both managed to maintain a cool, calm and collected state while peeling spider webs and their owners off our helmets, arms and faces. With the technical difficulties over, we hit the dirt road back towards St Albans for refreshments, then onwards to Wiseman’s Ferry to complete the loop.
Catching up with team mate Justin Morris on the way home, he asked:
“So did you both just swap off on the dirt road back?”.
“No. We just half-wheeled each other instead” For 40 kilometres.
And so the weekend was complete. My legs are shattered, my thought processes slow, but the hurt and hunger are very apparent. Although it feels like I’m starting again, it was A to B(ox) in one easy move.