TT day:
The next day was the 40km Individual Time Trial.Like with most things in life,I have a love-hate relationship with Time Trials. The aspect I dislike about TTs is that I find it boring. It's one hour of being in the hurt locker and the only source of excitement is when you catch your minute-man (assuming you are strong enough to do). The other face of the coin is that I love the perceived sense of control involved in executing a time trial and not having the race result depends on any other rider.
Come TT day, I put on my pollution mask (whom I have a love-hate relationships with too) and waited in the car till it was time to start the warm up. Warmed up on time. Lined up on time. And started the race on time. A bunch of things I did right in the race, and a bunch I didn't. In the end, I was best able to manage an 8th place finish on the day.
Adventures in recovery:
As soon as I got off the bike after the TT ride, there was an irritation in the back of my throat. A few hours later, that had developed into a full blown throat infection. I could barely manage to speak more than 10 words at a stretch (good thing I like listening more than talking) and the only thing I could swallow that dinner were soup and steamed rice.
The next morning looked unpromising, as I spent a good part of my first woken hour in the bathroom clearing out the mucus into the sink. The next few hours I laid in bed, in a dark room surrounded by piles of balled up and snotty tissues and an array of half-full mugs of tea and glasses of water, binging on Orica-Bikeexchange's Backstage passes, hoping that I would recover enough to log in a trainer session in the evening to keep the legs fresh for the next days's 120kms road race.
Alas, my throat had turned wretched by nightfall and the occasional cough and sneeze which would send a burning sensation down my throat and lungs kept me off the bike
That night, after a bowl of vegetable broth and rice, I hit the bed feeling feverish and absolute shite.
"What am I going to tell all those who stood by and supported me?"
"What am I going to tell prospective team managers when they ask how I did at the nationals?"
"I'm going to suck so badly tomorrow. I almost don't feel like lining up. What's the point anyways, it's a flat course and the big team will bring it down to a bunch sprint"
"This throat infection feels like a petty excuse. I hate being so powerless."
After a few minutes spent talking and reassessing the situation with my mentor, I decided to adopt a different outlook on the situation. I told myself - "The world is literally going to end on the 9th of November, 2016. I don't know how. But it will."
Bleak it might seem, but this approach did help me silence the voices in my mind.
"What am I going to tell all those who stood by and supported me?" - They'll be gone.
"What am I going to tell prospective team managers when they ask how I did at the nationals?" - Them too.
"I'm going to suck so badly tomorrow. I almost don't feel like lining up. What's the point anyways, it's a flat course and the big team will bring it down to a bunch sprint" - Well, it's the last road race on the face of planet Earth. Might as well give it all and go down with a bang.
"This throat infection feels like a petty excuse. I hate being so powerless." - Meh.
To be continued..
The next day was the 40km Individual Time Trial.Like with most things in life,I have a love-hate relationship with Time Trials. The aspect I dislike about TTs is that I find it boring. It's one hour of being in the hurt locker and the only source of excitement is when you catch your minute-man (assuming you are strong enough to do). The other face of the coin is that I love the perceived sense of control involved in executing a time trial and not having the race result depends on any other rider.
Come TT day, I put on my pollution mask (whom I have a love-hate relationships with too) and waited in the car till it was time to start the warm up. Warmed up on time. Lined up on time. And started the race on time. A bunch of things I did right in the race, and a bunch I didn't. In the end, I was best able to manage an 8th place finish on the day.
 |
| Awaiting my turn to enter the hurt box. (That's smog in the background, not to be confused with his clean cousin, fog) |
Adventures in recovery:
As soon as I got off the bike after the TT ride, there was an irritation in the back of my throat. A few hours later, that had developed into a full blown throat infection. I could barely manage to speak more than 10 words at a stretch (good thing I like listening more than talking) and the only thing I could swallow that dinner were soup and steamed rice.
The next morning looked unpromising, as I spent a good part of my first woken hour in the bathroom clearing out the mucus into the sink. The next few hours I laid in bed, in a dark room surrounded by piles of balled up and snotty tissues and an array of half-full mugs of tea and glasses of water, binging on Orica-Bikeexchange's Backstage passes, hoping that I would recover enough to log in a trainer session in the evening to keep the legs fresh for the next days's 120kms road race.
Alas, my throat had turned wretched by nightfall and the occasional cough and sneeze which would send a burning sensation down my throat and lungs kept me off the bike
That night, after a bowl of vegetable broth and rice, I hit the bed feeling feverish and absolute shite.
"What am I going to tell all those who stood by and supported me?"
"What am I going to tell prospective team managers when they ask how I did at the nationals?"
"I'm going to suck so badly tomorrow. I almost don't feel like lining up. What's the point anyways, it's a flat course and the big team will bring it down to a bunch sprint"
"This throat infection feels like a petty excuse. I hate being so powerless."
After a few minutes spent talking and reassessing the situation with my mentor, I decided to adopt a different outlook on the situation. I told myself - "The world is literally going to end on the 9th of November, 2016. I don't know how. But it will."
Bleak it might seem, but this approach did help me silence the voices in my mind.
"What am I going to tell all those who stood by and supported me?" - They'll be gone.
"What am I going to tell prospective team managers when they ask how I did at the nationals?" - Them too.
"I'm going to suck so badly tomorrow. I almost don't feel like lining up. What's the point anyways, it's a flat course and the big team will bring it down to a bunch sprint" - Well, it's the last road race on the face of planet Earth. Might as well give it all and go down with a bang.
"This throat infection feels like a petty excuse. I hate being so powerless." - Meh.
 |
| One possible scenario! |
To be continued..
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