Oh yeah, now this is IT! Racing bikes is fun, but taking the day off to rest the ol’ knee, taking in the sights and sounds of all the action that goes into a race – in this above example we have the finish line with fans, sponsors, announcers, and everything else that comprises the finish town slowly setting up shop – oh yeah, THIS is where it’s at!
That, of course, is spoken with palpable sarcasm. I am a bike racer and that is what I want to be doing.
You see, yesterday we wrapped up a win at Giro di Sardegna in dramatic fusion by taking it with just a 3 second buffer. But bummer central is that I was dealing with nagging knee issues all week which chronically became more and more aggravated, understandably given the work it was undergoing. So I thankfully reached the end of that race having done my job and therefore in today’s one-day GP Sardegna (or something like that) I get to sit it out.
Laying down lots’o'watts on the front of the peloton in order to help shuttle Peter from start to finish (or more specifically to about 40kms to go when the race starts to go nutty uphill) daily is very rewarding. I won’t delve into the emotional mumbo-jumbo related to it because you’re presumably you’re a fan of cycling and therefore know full well that cycling is a team sport.
As rewarding as anything else is to receive the praise from one’s America colleagues in this European adventure. Especially with the addition of SpyderTech here, there are a solid dozen North Americans in this race. The comaraderie among our nationalistic brethren runs deep, which is motivating. Hearing, “Dude, you just have pulled the peloton for more of this race than anyone in the entire race!” means a lot. Or even better, “Whoa man, you must have produced a higher TSS than anyone in the peloton. That’s wicked!” You can rest assured that’s a verbal pat on the back that would be exchanged a lot less frequently if I were, say, French. Go America.
But look, I’m not here gloat. Nor do I want a pity party for my ginocchio (sounds like Pinocchio, but it’s Italian for knee). Actually I’m typing this on my phone while waiting with a team mechanic and bus driver for lunch. As I alluded to before, the photo above shows us at the arrival town, having taken the bus from start to finish over a lengthy 180km of hill and dale Sardinia (Sardegnia). So maybe as much as anything I’m killing time. Or helping shed light on this week. Or giving myself carpel tunnel.
Here’s to resting my knee and hopefully another great race today.