Yesterday I went out for a longer rider again. Bill, Ian and I started out, but they turned around after a couple hours. I was hoping to get in a triple digit effort again. I rode over to Lawrence and got a cup of coffee. The temperature was around 50. Not really warm enough for bare legs, but my left knee had been hurting a tad and sometimes when I have something covering it, the problem get exacerbated, so I just put on a bunch of oil to ride.

Anyway, when I walk out of the coffee shop, there are a abunch of raindrop spots on the sidewalk. And the temperature was noticeably colder. I thought, man, this is not going to be good. I had around 50 miles and it was 30 miles back to my house. I had a wind vest in my pocket, but wasn’t prepared for rain. The wind was from the southeast, which meant a tailwind home, but not super hard. Pretty much immediately the road was wet, my tires throwing spray up.

I felt in a rush, stressed. I could see that over the city of Topeka, it was raining hard. Plus, lightning. I was riding straight into it. I got about a third the way back and decided to head North to maybe skirt the storm. I could see clearer skies North. Right when I got to Perry, which is where I needed to turn West again, it started raining. Not super hard, but raining. And the temperature had dropped again.

It was now in the 30’s and I was getting completely soaked. It is so strange how you can be okay riding in the rain until your feet and butt gets soaked. After that it was miserable. The spray off the road was super cold. Plus it was full of sand and a salt taste, which tells me I had it in my mouth.

The weird thing is, and this nearly always happens, my legs felt great. Well, that might not be accurate, because my legs were partially numb. But, whatever the accurate description, I could turn about any gear.

The luck of it is that my power meter quit reading when I got back on my bike at the coffee shop. I stopped once to try to get it to sync, but it was raining and I didn’t spend much time with it.

I wish I would have that data. I rode back to Topeka, consistently over 25 mph, sometimes over 30. There was a tailwind, not crazy, but present. Definitely not enough to explain the speed vs. effort ease.

I would really like to know what cold water on my legs does to make me able to do something as remarkable as this. I had just around an 18 mph average at 50 miles and was at 20 mph when I got home, frozen, at 85 miles.

And frozen I was. I lost use of my hand right about when I got to the city limits. I couldn’t shift, even with Di2, so I was pretty much stuck in a 53 X 14 all the way through town. It didn’t matter much, my legs could turn it. I rode through town, in the rain, at rush hour, well faster than the cars.

So, I ask the question again, what physiological change does my body go through when my legs are super cooled when exercising. I’ve always been good when it rains. But, usually it is during the summer and I attribute the results to bike handling. But the few times I’ve had situations like yesterday, I’ve always had the same experience. Super legs, can push any gear, without respiratory penalty.

I didn’t ever go as hard as I could. I wasn’t looking for that kind of effort and my right knee, which I previously had no issues with, had hurt when I started out. Some Patella tendonitis like pain. I’m using blue cleats on my new shoes and haven’t really gotten used to the 1 degree of movement. I might put back on red cleats. I have experienced knee pain getting much worse when I ride big gears in the cold, so I was pretty backed off the whole way back, if you call 27 mph backed off.

Anyway, if anyone out there has an answer to this question, let me know. My legs are kind of tweaked this morning. Like I pushed big gears, for an hour, with 30 degree water spraying all over them. Go figure.

I’m not totally sold on the blue cleats yet. I tape the holes in the bottom of my shoes in the winter.

My bike is a mess. I was too frozen to deal with it after the ride, so it has had a night to solidify.

I’ve been waffling back and forth whether to race here in the Kansas area locally, or drive down to Texas and race a couple bigger road races there. Both the races are hard, but hard in much different ways.

The racing here in Kansas, there will be a lot of jumping and much more time in the wind. Something that sometimes isn’t as productive as just sitting in a field of 60 and cruise along at 25-30 mph. There is a lot to be said about riding bigger, harder races, early season, to ride into form. Maybe times racing local races, early season, is nearly too hard, if that makes any sense. The bigger the race, the more controlled the field, thus the less mental and physical stress, sometimes.

Tomorrow there is an one hour criterium over in Lawrence. It is a points race, meaning that there is a fair chance that I’ll be full-out sprinting at least a few times, something I haven’t really done yet this season. I think that I have an okay base, but bringing it up a notch, like sprinting, is going to be harsh.

Then Sunday, there is a 60 mile road race outside Columbia Missiouri, Froze Toes. This race is great, two 31 mile laps, mainly flat. The only issue there is the temperature, which is going to be pretty cold, 30’s, and the wind. The wind is usually the decisive element of early season races in the midwest. Luckily, I like the wind. I am very familiar with it. It is my ally.

Anyway, it is strange talking to friends about racing right now. Guys that have been racing bikes for a long time. Everyone is so hesitant, worried. I understand the feelings. It has been an ugly winter here in Kansas the last few weeks. Days when you absolutely couldn’t get out and ride. More than a week at a time where it was mandatory riding indoors. Most my buddies don’t like riding trainers anymore than I do. I haven’t ridden inside this year and don’t plan to. I’d rather go and plow my MTB bike through 12 inches of snow, than sweat like a pig for an hour or two in the basement.

So, with the spotty training, everyone around here is stressed about being behind. Behind where they would normally be, behind the guys that have been creating pools of sweat on their floors, behind all the guys that are all tan from training in warmer climates.

I can’t imagine being one of my friends that live up in Minneapolis, or where the winter is still in full force, for over another month. It is so amazing to me when we race in Iowa, in mid-April, and these guys show up with translucent, white skin and say it is the first time they’ve ridden in shorts this year.

As athletes, we all worry about our form and where we are at constantly. We continually worry, even as the season progresses, wondering if we’re personally progressing at a good rate, a rate that seems, at least, comparable, to our peers.

It is the worst before we’ve even clipped in for a race, early. Especially if we didn’t participate in cyclocross, so our last races were months ago.

But, we shouldn’t let this apprehension dictate our actions. If we don’t go through the motions early, then the apprehension is justified and, for sure, we’re just further behind.

So, don’t let uncertainty dictate your actions. You’ll never know where you’re at unless you take the plunge and toe the line.