The day of number 2

 

Two hours of stopped time in the ride. We were lucky we dogged the rain all day.

Two were the KOMs I lost to Lucas and I consider that a success.

Two punctures today. One before the ride even started.

Two were the sprints that JFW took today. Below expectations performance.

Two inner tubes JFW needed to repair a puncture. Another below expectations performance.

Two pieces of cake for Bidders at the coffee stop. That’s an expected performance.

Two coffees for me at the coffee stop. It helps to explain my overexcitement during the return leg.

But There Can Be Only One Winner of the final sprint. It definitely helps that no one but me knew where the line was.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/10828014905

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Javier the arrogant

Is arrogance a sin? 

Asking for a friend?

If it is, I'm going straight to hell.

Trying to keep up in the climbs with The Pope and Lucas? That’s me reaching new levels of arrogance.

I have lots of excuses though. I always have lots of excuses.

I had coffee this morning. That always gives me unjustified optimism.

Beating JFW up Green Dene (just about). Was another unjustified morale boost. 

I lost Hound Hose to Lucas, but not by much. Even if I sat on his wheel the whole climb, even if I was just happy to be there, it felt good.

Riding easy in the flat section made me believe I wasn’t tired. 

To make things worse I had a second coffee at Sumners Ponds.

As soon as we were back on the bikes I felt strong. Very strong. Van Aert type of strong. And that is where my arrogance showed up.

I was invincible.

Not for long though. Reality was fast trying to destroy my arrogance.

What else would you call blowing up half way up Broomhall? Arrogance destruction attempt.

I persisted though. Arrogance doesn’t go away easily.

I started to plan how to beat them up Juniper? 

If you know them, and you know me, you know how arrogant, if not funny, that is.

Completely blind to reality I sat on The Pope and Lucas’ wheel all Juniper.

In the final ramp, at the moment I had planned to attack, The Pope attacked. 

That was it. I wasn’t close is the most optimistic way of putting it. Reality kept sending me signals.

I wasn’t receiving them. 

Horton’s sprint was neutralized as the road was a bit too wet and potentially slippery. I declared myself (without saying it outloud) the winner of the final sprint anyway.

Arrogance doesn’t go away just because reality tells otherwise.

Like that, here I am, after my well deserved siesta, thinking I’m a strong cyclist, probably only second to Big Mig. 

Take that reality.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/10601714863/

Take care

Javier Arias González