Looming

When you hear me say "I really need a ride today," the true meaning generally falls into one of two categories. Either, I mean that I need to go out and do a ride as it's crucial for training, i.e., it's a "quality" session imperative to my bigger plan, or I mean that things have piled up mentally and I just need to "go". Just go, and push the gears. Feel the heat, the humidity, the sun and the wind on my body, the sweat in my eyes and the salt on my skin. Feel my legs filling with that all-too-familiar burn only to feel them drain on out during my final descent back into the valley on my way home. Just in time to watch the sun go down over the hills, over the river.

Today was shaping up to be a rare day, where when I said to myself "I really need a ride today," I meant it for both reasons stated above. And so with great enthusiasm, I rolled out into the hot evening to hit the hills. Solo. Just me and my mp3 player, and the endless roads laid out before me.

But it was 8 minutes, by the display of my HRM, when I heard it: PPPFFFSSSTTT. Followed immediately by: Wobble, Wobble, Wobble, Wobble. Yes, that would be the sound of a flat tire, and the lovely feeling of riding on your rim.

"Okay. Gain composure. There's no use in getting mad at this situation." I said to myself. I don't know, something about flats always has me reaching for the hot button. I guess it's just the fact that training is so hard by itself - why does it need to be further complicated by exploding equipment? Regardless, I got myself off the road and onto a nice spot of grass to get to work replacing my blown tube with my trusty spare. I was back on the bike in no time, ready to roll on.

"I hope my spare tube holds."

"I hope I cleaned out the tire okay, and I don't puncture again... I only have the one spare."

"Man, my legs feel good tonight... And I love this song playing on my mp3."

"Tire feels pretty good."

"I'm feeling the rhythm now."

"I think it's going to hold. I think tonight's going to be an awesome night..."

PPPFFFSSSTTT. Wobble, Wobble, Wobble, Wobble.

"Sigh."

That's the way the cookie crumbles, as they say. But I wonder: was it a sign that I just wasn't supposed to ride today? Perhaps I would have gone too hard and wasted my legs before a big race weekend? Or was it an omen? Telling me that my wheels are evil and I'll suffer yet another flat on race day?

Who knows.

In the end today, on a day where I needed both the workout and the therapy, I got 17 minutes on the bike. Very disappointing. But I suppose, perhaps, that it was better than 16.