For the past 2 weeks the wind has been blowing like a son-of-a bitch.
Take that wind and add a new carbon bike with an extremely aggressive aero position, then throw in 1 slightly ill cyclist….
Well, you may very well have found the perfect storm.
At the very least, if you were on the Mississippi Coast last Sunday, you may have witnessed a nervous breakdown on the side of the road.
I was cooked…done…
My give a shitter, had given out.
By 40 miles I was almost reduced to tears. It took every ounce of mental perseverance to not call my husband to come and retrieve me, load up the bike, and drive my ass home.
My chest hurt, there was a steady 15-20 mph headwind, and the gusts were stronger. When I would change directions, the crosswind became so brutal, simply controlling the bike was a feat in and of itself.
I was angry. No I was downright MAD….
AT THE WIND!
The sad part is, I knew better.
I know, and I knew then, how pointless this is and that I was doing nothing but wasting valuable energy. But I just couldn’t get my head straight.
I finished the 2.5hr ride discouraged, deflated, and downright depressed.
Galveston is going be windy. The conditions are almost identical to what we have here on the Mississippi coast. It’s one of the reasons I elected to do it.
Doubt, however; has now arrived at the party. I guess it was inevitable.
Cycling is my strongest discipline. I depend on having a great ride to set up the run because, for me, running is ALWAYS hard. It doesn’t matter if it’s a 5k at the end of a sprint or 13.1 at the end of the half-ironman. Each and every mile, once I leave T2, are a battle.
I was warned about Galveston and the winds, but elected to take em’ on as opposed to fighting the heat and humidity later in the season.
I’m now wondering if I should’ve heeded the advice of others….
25 days and counting…
Ride Happy, My Friends!