Pueblo

I headed down to Pueblo today for a solo ride after getting turned down by Dobbins. The weather was supposed to be in the low 60's but it felt a little cooler than that and a storm blew in during that last hour which made hustling back to the car a really good time. I originally wanted to just ride easy and felt poor right off the bat. Five miles into the ride I stopped the music and heard a racket coming from the rear hub. I have not had good luck with non-Shimano hubs. The bearing was so tight that spinning it backwards engaged the freehub. I started to head back to the car and made it about a mile from it and then said fawk it and kept riding.

I still wasn't feeling all that hot but, like normal, I decided to ride way over my head. Thankfully, I installed a new 20 tooth cog to make the day hurt a little bit more. I simply can't ride at 175 beats per minute and that 189 did NOT tickle. I don't know what I was thinking but, I generally never do. I have no clue how I placed as well in cross country races years ago. I'm usually too busy looking at stuff to worry about how fast I'm going so trying to race some short stuff this year could be a huge mistake for motivation. One of the reasons I considered racing at Pueblo in the first place was to just practice doing MY ride and eating how I know I have to eat to ride all day. I seem to struggle with this.

Already in the hurt locker, I was frustrated, but I became even more so by other riders not yielding to me on short climbs and just not being nice. How hard is it to say hello back or give a thank you? And if you're going to stop to enjoy the scenery or eat...don't lay your bike in the middle of the trail. Props to the couple on the bitchin' tandem WITH radio though. They were fun both times I saw them. Anyways...I hit the wall pretty hard in the last hour and put a serious beat down on the Mike and Ikes. Then I flatted. This is no surprise and I deserved it. Only I'm dumb enough to ride in cactus country with tires that have not had Stan's replaced since the beginning of August. I ended up having to top off the tire with air 3 times in that last hour. I could have put a tube in but that would have been smart. In an effort to get back to the car in the least amount of time, I took the longest trails.

I averaged about 10 miles an hour and I could not have gone much harder. I made it back to the car with 5 hours of moving time. Once in the car and headed back home I suddenly got really hot and nauseas. To the point that I pulled the car over. I stopped for some apple juice and, eventually, started to feel better. When I got home I looked at results from the Voodoo Fire race in Pueblo from last year. I can't believe that guys were finishing that 70 miles in 5 hours. I feel like a bitch.