Yesterday? Oh, it was epic—a total redemption day. I decided to wipe the slate clean of last week’s mess-ups by crushing it on my road bike. The plan? Rack up so many miles that any shortfalls would just vanish into thin air. Maybe it was this gung-ho attitude, or perhaps sheer denial, that made me completely oblivious to my heart rate monitor’s silence. I mean, it should’ve been buzzing me to take it easy, right? Nope. Instead, I went full beast mode, clocking in a whopping 85 miles in 5 hours, and ending up in a total daze of delirium.
Turns out, my trusty heart rate monitor pulled a fast one on me, resetting its default zones without a heads-up. So, there I was, thinking I’m just cruising, when in reality, zone 1 had shifted to 113 to 145. And not once did it cross my mind that my “24-hour solo race” pace was a bit off as I powered through to Hamilton and beyond. Classic denial, folks.
Fast forward to last night, and I’m trying to piece together my existence, wondering why I’m more dead to the world than a phone with 1% battery. This morning, a lightbulb moment—I checked the zones and realized I’d been hammering it in zone two, even flirting with zone three a few times. All this, on a saddle meant for brief, tear-through-time trials (note to self: get a new saddle).
So, what’s on the agenda now? Rest. Pure, unadulterated rest. And tomorrow? Well, if all goes well, I’ll be ready to tackle the hills for my second week of threshold tests. Here’s to hoping my body forgives me!
On this day in history, a stroll down memory lane
- 2008: Pedal Punk
- 2008: First epic stage race
- 2007: Exhausted But Riding Strong
- 2005: Can’t Sleep
- 2002: Paul and Lucy in Glen Falls
- 2001: Work Study Sucks
- 2001: Quiet Embrace of Sorrow
Boneshakerbike 
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