Crossing The Bar

I'm strangely inspired by Dr. Frank-N-Furter's sweet transition.

Mondays, more often than not, are rest days in my cycling plans.  Coming out of the weekend I’m usually a little burned out and the grass in my yard is usually a little too tall to neglect further.  But today wasn’t an ordinary Monday; it was Labor Day.  I didn’t have to work, so I made up for a rainout on Saturday and for an uninspired 25-mile effort on Sunday.  Today I rode 80 miles—mostly with six other riders on the roads of the northern Kettle Moraine State Forest—to push past the 3,900-mile mark for the year.  I expect to reach 4,000 this Saturday on the Washington County Bicycle Club ride.  Tomorrow will be a rest day.

I’m struck today by an overwhelming sense of transition from one part of the cycling season to another.  Putting on knee warmers and a long-sleeved jersey to ride this morning in 50-something-degree weather only reinforced that feeling, but I think I would have felt it even if today had been a warm and sunny masterpiece.  The end is in sight for the state road racing and club ride calendars, waning daylight has already started to limit after-work rides, and the last Grand Tour of the year, the Vuelta a España, is down to its last six stages.  After the Vuelta we can look forward to the world championships, then Paris-Tours, then the Giro di Lombardia, and then three months of waiting for the Tour Down Under to begin the 2012 season.

At this point in the 2010 season I was already thinking about cross-training, changes to my weightlifting routine and other things that contribute to cycling but by themselves aren’t cycling.  This year I’m thinking only of cycling, and in the spirit of looking forward to something new instead of desperately clinging to a road riding season that surely must end, cyclocross dominates my thoughts.  I’ve been a fan, but now it’s time to become a participant.  September will provide several opportunities for me to practice and in early October I intend to race for the first time.  At first glance, cyclocross doesn’t appear to be a discipline for which I am perfectly suited.  But it does look like fun and, if nothing else, will inject some intensity into my workouts.  Without it, the remainder of my 2011 season could be an unspectacular march toward 5,000 miles—a worthy accomplishment, but perhaps no longer enough by itself.