My Weekly Training Routine

Somewhat lifted from CyclingInquisition, but modified to fit the average MABRA'er (myself included):


Monday
I ride casually around town. Because I'm riding alone and at my own pace, I feel strong. I notice that my pace seems to be a bit faster than it's ever been before. I think back to how I felt during this month the year prior, and I realize how I've progressed over time. Has Haines Point gotten smaller, or can it just no longer contain my speed?


Tuesday
My pace is good, I'm climbing well. Is the wind on my back? Has any car or vehicle gone up Beach drive this fast?


Wednesday
My riding has definitely improved recently, I'm sure of it. I can't believe I'm riding this effortlessly on my heavy commuter bike. I guess that if a janitor can be smarter than grad students at MIT, anything is possible. To think of all those guys who spend hours training and doing intervals. What a waste. My amazing physiology knows no bounds. I'm a natural.


Thursday
Okay, this is getting ridiculous. I remember when Angler's Inn seemed tough, now it's a joke. I think I may be cutting my time in half, or something close to that. If anyone were riding with me right now, they'd be suffering. I would hear them screaming in pain...begging for mercy. I would slow down, and I would wait for them. When you're this strong, it's the right thing to do. You have to be humble. The teenage kid in Rookie Of The Year was humble, I should be too. It's a gift that my genetic make up allows me to be this good. I should be thankful, and I should treat others who are slower than me with respect. Maybe I should hit the Goon on the way home for a nice recovery ride.

Why am I letting this kind of talent and speed go to waste? I don't think a crit would be sufficiently challenging...I need something with a substantial amount of climbing. I wonder if the muscles in my legs are stretched tighter or differently than everyone else's? How else could you explain this speed and strength? I'm not saying that I could race professionally, but I think I'm up there.



Friday
I'm taking the day off. The speed I unleashed yesterday was almost scary. Do I seriously need to ride everyday? I don't think so. I'm a natural. Teen wolf never practiced dunking, and he still managed.


Saturday on the 7 AM and/or 10 AM:

( The stages of grief present themselves: denial, pain, anger, depression, acceptance)Sweet mother of jesus and baby jesus, I'm in trouble. How the fuck do these guys expect me to keep up this pace? Damn it, how can this guy climb like that? Look at the size of him. Christ. I should never ride again. This is embarrassing. The ride should've ended twenty miles ago, this is ridiculous. God, I hope this light turns red so I can stop for a second. What? No, no...don't run the light. Fuck, they're running the light. Shit. Why are they running the light? Why run this light? They weren't running lights six hours ago. When I get home, I'm going to shower and get under the covers. Once under the covers, I'm gonna' lay in the fetal position for the rest of the day.

Sunday: Pure shame/ a recovery ride to convince me that I was just a bit tired and that I'll be back next week.

And thus it ends. Reality sets in. I quickly realize how others are stronger than me. I have no secret talent. I have no genetic gift that has magically allowed me to improve substantially without doing any work. I'm humbled. By Monday morning, I start to believe again. I'm having delusions of grandeur, and I'm dreaming about the hidden talents that quietly lay within. It's all ridiculous, and completely unlikely. But it's also alluring and terribly entertaining, so the cycle starts again. By Monday morning, I have huge white teeth and I'm doing high-level mathematics, I'm Teen Wolf, and I'm dunking all over the place.