The Trance

So this weekend was busy for me but I decided to carve out some time on Sunday for a few solid miles on my bike.  Since it had rained a bunch on Saturday, Brian and I chose to hit the road and avoid the trails as we expected the rocks might be a little slimy.  Also, the road would allow us to just keep on peddling without him waiting on me.  That wasn't so much good for me but better for him.

As a typical ride with Brian goes, it was a significant effort that meant I would have a soul crushing experience.  It would also involve lots of climbing followed by periods of quality suffering. I expect this when I ride with Brian so it was nothing new or out of the ordinary.  What was unique was a part of this little excursion that I was unfamiliar with.  

It's no secret that I don't ride with many people.  Brian is one of the few.  Normally I'll hang with him for a short while and then he ends up blowing my doors off and I suffer mercifully the rest of the day.  This ride was different, but only in the fact that I was able to hang with him longer, although I don't think it was my ability as much as he was going easy on me.  Because of this, I experienced something that was relatively new to me.  Here's a quick aside:

For those of you that are new to the road bicycling scene, the concept basically goes like this: If you're on the front, ride as fast as you are able.  If you are not on the front, put the front wheel of your bike as close to the rear wheel of the person in front of you without overlapping.  This allows you to stay in the draft and use less energy.  This cache of saved energy can then expend when you are on the front.  When there are only two people riding some of the group dynamic is lost.  Things you would normally not do in the pace line are okay because you're either the first guy in line or the last.  

So there I was, letting Brian pull me along and I was focused on his rear wheel, doing all I could to stay as close as I could.  I was tired, hungry, and had very little water left.  My body was just going through the motions and I was doing all I could to try and stay on his wheel.  If I got dropped I'd be on my own, but on his wheel I still had a chance of surviving.  I started to become fixated on that wheel.  I was watching the hub.  Looking at the tread.  Ignoring the important stuff like the surface of the road.  My head was drooping and I wanted to hold that wheel as long as I could.  It was like being in a trance where the only thing I could focus on was the hum of that wheel spinning along.  I was burying my self on the most pedestrian of rises in the road just to stay close.  I found myself with my jaw slack as I spun my legs as fast and aggressively as could manage, regardless of the pain.

Then, as if it was all a dream, that wheel slowly began to pull away and all I could see in my field of view was the pavement where the wheel I so desperately wanted to stay in contact with use to be.  I had finally popped like a naive balloon that wanted to meet a cactus.  Eventually I made it home, with Brian, but only because he waited, on several occasions.  We logged just over 80 miles and just over five hours.  It was windy.  But I was on my bike again so it was all worth it.