Motor-pacing on Saratoga Road

That would be Saratoga Road in Marshall, MN---not Saratoga Road in San Jose, CA. Can you imagine the latter?

Anyway, I spent the day riding around in the warm sunshine and warm wind. I have a great appreciation for wind coming in from the South. IT's warm wind. If it was this windy in California, I might bail on a ride. Guess I'm starting to adjust to it, or else two days on the trainer did me in and so just being outside on a ride is good enough.

When Mike came home from his meetings (he's doing some kind of Sales Seminar/Training thing with some brokers and so he's literally right down the street), he said he changed his mind about dinner at home and informed me that he was going out with the guys from work to play golf. He dusted off his golf-clubs and left them on the kitchen floor. So I ate dinner while he went out for a short spin before heading to the country club.

Twenty five minutes later, I get a phone call. "Hey Sweetie! Feel like driving out to Saratoga and motor-pacing me for awhile?" I said, "No problem....but weren't you playing golf tonight?" He just said he needed to train. I think the fact that last night, he came home smelling like an ash-tray from the "Sale event of the evening", plus a smoke hangover from breathing in all the second hand smoke, he needed some time away from all the smoke. But training is always good. (California-smoke-free-Dreaming...sigh!)

Anyway, this was the first time I've ever motor-paced Taylor. We did just over 50 MPH at some portions of the road. I got a real good perspective about racing too. He pretended I was the "bunch". One time he "attacked" me and rode off the front and in the wind. I didn't know what he was doing so I attacked back and sped up. But then he couldn't get back in my draft until I slowed down. After he told me what he was doing though, I let him attack me and ride off the front and in the wind, while I maintained a steady speed until he fell back "into the bunch".

The coolest part is the "flame rouge" (or 1K to go leadout). The road we were riding on was 5 miles long and then we'd turn-around. So at the last kilometer,(of each leg) he'd get behind me and I would get to do the lead-out. I'd inch up the speed in 2 mph increments...faster and faster until we'd pass the "pretend" finish line. I've never gotten to see him suffering so closely. Mike wasn't pretending...only I was pretending. He was going all out...100%...38-50MPH for like 30/40 miles after a day at the office...and in addition to another 30 miles warming up and cooling down.

And the only other time I have ever witnessed that look of suffering on anyone's face, is when I've watched the look on a women's face who is giving birth.

And it's why, as much as I love and need to ride my bike every single day for as long as possible, I will never race. I just don't DO suffering....