It was a pretty casual pace as we pulled out this morning. Brisk would be a kind term to describe the temperature. I was actually quite curious to see how much I had left in my legs after yesterday and my plan was to just stay completely in my comfort zone. Strangely enough, my comfort zone seemed to put me up with the top 25. (A place I'm am truly not accustomed to.) We hit the hill, and the field spread out as it usually does, but for a change I was actually passing more than I was being passed. (Another anomaly.) If you have ridden Nichols, you know it is a rather relentless incline, with just one little bit of relief just before the wall. I was kind of surprised as I hit that slight downhill how strong I was feeling, so I hammered that section as hard as I could. I must be getting much more confidence in my cornering because I was leaning hard into those turns, knee out, head down, white knuckle shit!
The rest of the ride was me pretty much trying to keep the pack in sight, although I did pass a few more riders on the way. At one point, on one of the hills, someone actually put his hand on my back and pushed me a bit to help me keep up my pace. I have no idea why, or who it was for that matter, but I thought to myself what a strange thing to do. You might think it was a bit insulting, but I thought it was actually quite kind and well ment.
I pulled into Skirball, where the pack was waiting, but much less than usual, which put me in the top 15 maybe? certainly top 20.
Had enough for the day? Fuck that! Rested at Pete's for a bit, and then hit Roscomere with Chris before heading home. Hey whats one more four mile climb before noon?
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