Full Gas

A long time ago in a galaxy far away – I bought myself a TT bike to ride. The plan was to complete the surgery, train the winter, arrive as a human missile – hewn from the former me by modern medicine. Go Team.

The reality differs. Life gets in the way. New job. Partner breaks an arm. Stuff.

So while things started superbly, and swimming was even briefly involved again, before too long they fell by the wayside. Weight increased, and here I am.

One evening I was browsing the ubiquitous Book of Faces, and there it was “Next Tuesday – TT season starts”.

Well, when I say starts – there had been a Hill Climb, but that’s not really a time trial – so “first flat or sporting event for non-sticks”. Yay thinks I – now is the moment – now is the…. hmmm… no training – and longest ride of the year is 50 miles.

Time to fit in a couple of Trainer Road sessions at best – and off I went.

The first two weeks – a nine and a ten were good. The usual discomfort then the elation.

The next week I tried to change my position to be flatter with the same hip angles – and no – no dice – uncomfortable – but none the less a second place personal record (!).

Change things back, ride more relaxed, and more of the same – no elation again – but the two-lap event scored another second place personal best – twice in a row.

Okay – so how is the heart?

It is good.

I avoid caffeine and alcohol around an event, and while my self imposed stress of work cannot be avoided (and is a very real factor indeed (What can I say – I care – I worry)) – I cannot control that more than I do.

What I am getting is ectopic beats on changes of exertion – I would say think of a backfiring rally car – but it is more of a 2 stroke scooter to be fair. I ease off or ramp up and there it is – sometimes a second or so, sometimes ten or more. But it always stops.

I don’t think it restricts me. But I am very much aware of it. Scared of it. Avoidance would be ideal – if you follow.

It is part of me, it is predictable, and as sustained efforts go – my goal is just this. Control. No more the huge epics with lengthy struggling ascents that I know place the wrong kind of stresses on the heart, but short, finite (almost to the point of predictable) flat out, full gas, efforts.

So – back to that Trainer Road… there is a season ahead (aforementioned life allowing).

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