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......
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