Translating

I learned an Indian word on Saturday. The word is Winnetaska. The first three syllables (Win-ne-tas) means "whip your...um...backside", the last syllable, "ka" means a thousand, so Winnetaska=whip your backside 1000 times.

Because that's what Camp Winnetaska road did to me on Saturday, 35 miles into my 75 mile ride. It's a hilly road, though if you're riding with other people, testosterone takes over and it's ridden as though it is flat. This was okay, and in fact, I wasn't struggling badly, staying near the front of the group having casual conversation along the way. This was my undoing...not paying attention, I suddenly found myself on a shortish, but very steep climb in the wrong gear (much much much too large) and by the time I had unknotted my legs from the effort of getting up that hill, I was all set to suffer the rest of the ride. And I did.

But I finished up and took today off. Yeah, I should have ridden, after all, Cherohala is just under 21 days away, and I'm due to be in Florida sailing about the keys for a week, which will cut mightily into my training. But I've been feeling a bit overtrained lately, and unwilling to take it easy and let myself recover properly, so it's probably a good idea to take it easy. And I don't think I'm too worried, between Cherohala 2K6 and now, I've ridden nearly 1000 miles more than I did between Cherohala 2K5 and Cherohala 2K6. So I'm probably not going to add a whole lot to the mix by doing anything extra at this point.

I'll ride the Pain Train on Tuesday night and that will be it until June 9. The P-32 theory of fitness will undoubtably come into play. The real question will be, can it be recovered in one week? I guess I'm going to find out.