We're halfway through Joe Martin, one time trial and one road race completed. It's been a bit of an adjustment to go from 90min crits at night to time trials and road races, but the legs came around about three hours into the road stage yesterday in time for a good chase. The results haven't shown very highly of us so far, but I think we've worked out the kinks and we have two good stages left to pull it together.
I'm finding this trip that it takes a fair bit of extra focus to keep getting excited about every moment of every race. Speedweek especially, with seven crits in nine days, it was just difficult to keep lining up completely THERE. It always comes around during the race, we're all excruciatingly competitive and love what we're doing, but sometimes that 5% of laziness loses it.
More and more this sport comes down to who has the head for it, since at any given race maybe a quarter of the field has the legs for it. We spend so many hours of so many days racing that it's easy to get overly comfortable and let the race happen around me rather than engaging fully and playing it out on my own terms.
Once again it strikes me that we all probably have the same problem everywhere else in life. Work, school, family, relationships, whatever... complacence and comfortability seem like the shortcut but always screw you in the end. Maybe laziness is an effective survival instinct but it sure makes for a mediocre existence. And of course the only thing worse than trying your hardest and losing is getting to the finish having "conserved" your way out of the W.
So today and tomorrow the goal is to do it the hard way. Saving is dumb--especially when it comes to energy and life. Racing is about shooting off bullets left and right and seeing who's the left when the dust settles. I mean how boring would cowboy movies be if they all just hid behind up-turned bar tables shouting insults and counting how much ammo was left? I say we should all be a little more cowboy and channel a little Clint Eastwood every day of our lives:
"I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?"
I'm sorry I let you down Clint, I'll try be more badass today.