Thursday Group Ride - Bring the Attack

A year or two ago, two of us (friend Neal and I) started to ride together. The day we rode was never set in stone and the distances varied. Other riders Neal brought showed up sometimes and other times not. We were both new to cycling and just learning how it all worked.

Skip ahead to last year: Neal started to bring a neighbor regularly, emailing to see who would show up entered the equation and a day stuck, Thursday morning, and a time 5:45 A.M. and then a name for what was now a "group" - The Local 545. It was like a union thing, if you are into that sort of thing. We talked about getting kit with a cool design, but that has yet to happen and the talk has more or less died down.

Neal found another guy from the outsized Plaza (Del Lago) ride -- think 50 guys in Lycra on fancy bikes with deep section carbon wheels and you are heading in the right direction, and I asked one of my clients who I discovered had an Orbea sitting in his basement. The group was growing. Late last summer, I met the father of one of my son's soccer teammates and discovered that he was a former Cat 3 racer with something of a running pedigree. I convinced him to join us, he was somewhat humiliated in a sprint in the late fall and vowed to improve. While I was limping around in a boot all winter, he was racking up miles in his basement on the trainer. Trust me, he did the work.

The group took a long winter hiatus and we resumed riding about a month ago as winter waned. Well, winter didn't actually wane as the temperature most of the mornings we have ridden has been in the low 40's and we are in tights and full finger gloves, jackets, arm warmers, some guys put hats under their helmets, but I digress (more so than necessary). What did happen was it got light out early enough to ride without lights. That's good stuff. And most weeks we have been 5 or 6 strong.

Lots of background. It is now the end of May and we are all starting to get stronger. Me to the point where I don't regularly think about the fact that I was off the bike from November until April.

Yesterday I awoke at about 5:00 and was excited to find that a week long bout of leg fatigue had cleared after a spirted interval session on the trainer early Wednesday morning. As I pedaled to our meeting place, I was thrilled with the elasticity I was feeling in my legs. I was certain this feeling would never return and yet here it was.

The group rolled out at a spirited pace with soccer dad Eric (the Cat 3 guy) jumping out early to make sure we warmed up quickly. I pulled along side him and we chatted easily as we rolled north on Sheridan rode. I decided to get things started and slipped back on Eric's wheel as we approached the Lloyd Place hill. As we hit the base of the hill, I downshifted, swung around Eric and hit the hill at a furious pace. I hit 23 mph as I cleared the top of the hill (the fastest I have ever covered that hill) and looked back to see that everyone was way behind me. I hung out and soft pedalled as the group re-grouped.

A couple miles later we were heading into the up and down of the Highland Park ravines. These are hills by Northern Illinois standards (well, maybe), but false flats really. The strategy comes in being in the right gear on the way down so you can scamper up the incline that follows. Yeah, I blew that pretty badly. Again, I hung on Eric's wheel, saw an opening as we descended and began to pedal furiously on the way up. I had screwed myself by being in my big ring to minimize the work going downhill and it was too late to shift as we went up. Long story short, I was going about 29 mph and then 15 mph and watched the group pass me by. Lesson learned.

The fast-paced fun on this ride always happens heading south on Green Bay Road. We have nicknamed it Virgil Way for the our mate Virgil who likes to push the pace on GBR and see who can hang on. Always it's Dean who settles him down with a late ride attack. This day, Virgil was complaining of being tired and wasn't on form. I took the lead and quickly accelerated to something in the 23-24 range. Fast enough to pull the group, but with a modicum of restraint with the thought being that I could hold the pace for a while.

Less than a mile later, Eric tapped me on the shoulder and said "let's all take shorter pulls." Sounded OK, so I let him take the lead and take it he did.

The speed quickly rose to 26-27 and I had the quick thought that I was glad I had taken my HRM off the bike. The HRM's constant nagging was holding me back more than anything. It made me think about what wasn't possible rather than what was.

With Eric pushing the pace, I looked up to see that we would be getting the green at Park Avenue. That meant no chance to catch a breath. Dean swung around and hammered past. I jumped on Eric's wheel and gave chase. A quick glance down -- we were going 31. We realized we had riders off the back, so we slowed to regroup. I filled my lungs with air, drained the last of one water bottle and prepared for the what was next.

During the breather, Eric and Dean had cooked up a race scheme and they took off. I was on Virgil's wheel and realized too late that he wasn't going to go. Blocked in the bunch sprint, or something like that. I swung wide left to get around him and gave chase. I had the right gear, was pedalling like mad, was up to 28 mph BUT could only watch as they pulled away -- way away.

As we took it easy the last three or so miles home, I was hit with an important realization - my cycling fitness is beginning to return.