With the sound of the starter’s pistol still ringing in my ears I jumped back into training with gusto bordering on panic. Following a three day weekend of big rides I found myself spent with an ice pack resting on my knee. The discomfort was a morbidly welcome physical reassurance that I was back on track.
I was happy to find that I had not lost all of my conditioning. My legs weren’t where they were at the beginning of the month but there was still some power when I needed it and when the ride time passed four hours on Sunday I still had something in the tank.
There are two weekends between now and Italy. In that time frame it is possible to gain a little or lose a lot; hence the situation calls for judgment. I need to be fit, but I better not be tired.
I can't wait to ride with those stylish Italians......