Not a word I like to hear. But that was my position on Wednesday's cat 2 climb in the road race.
Cracked. Like balsa wood, I was splintered all over the road, barely turning over my 23 cog to keep the bike in motion.
The legs came back, but too late. The time cut was only 8% today, and I didn't make it. 28 minutes down and dehydrated as all hell, I rolled in with a small groupetto. And that's that.
First time to be time cut in a race. There's a first time for everything, eh? At least it was a big race and I can rest well knowing I gav'er everything I got and then some.
So as Belgian logic states, I went out and trained long hours today. 175 km's to be exact. Not quite a death march, but in the vicinity of one given it was a solo ride. Alsace is really a great area to ride in. I would love to train here during the winter.
So I'm headed back to Izegem via train to do some Kermesse racing Saturday and Monday to get the legs back for the Tour of Antwerp next week. It's a step down from all the UCI 2.2 and 1.2 races I've been doing, but hell, it feels good to say that I may actually do more than hang on at Antwerp.
Belgian cheers to all--