I rode to work in a stiff 20km/h headwind this morning.  I blame Adam for this.  After poking my head outside, I sent Adam a text – “20km/h headwind,  did you ride?”  “Hell yes! Cold though” came the quick response.  I sighed and pulled on my stretchy pants, muttering under my breath.  I was going to ride either way I suspect – had Adam not ridden, I would have ridden in and rightfully gloated all day.  In the garage I gazed from the elk-skin leather motorcycle gauntlets to the rubber-palmed mechanic’s gloves weighing the merits of each.  I opted to try the mechanics gloves but with a twist – I put them on the wrong hands so the rubber-coated side faced out with the idea that at least they’d be wind-proof.  They may have been, however their ability to transfer heat from my hands to the wind passing over them was in no way diminished.  It was absolutely freezing and I’m not sure my thumbs have yet forgiven me.  I’m going to need to find a set of gloves for the morning.  And knee warmers.  All this cloudy, windy weather is doing nothing for my calf-tanning either.

In direct view from the hallways outside my office are three flags from the neighbour’s site.  Most days I try to avoid looking at them as I don’t want to see them whipping away to the south, indicating the painful ride that awaits me.  Today I couldn’t help as they were buffeted angrily about in a myriad of directions.  It wasn’t until early afternoon that it seemed to settle in exactly as it had been in the morning – which meant a gusting 25-30km/h tailwind for the ride home.  Finally – payback for the constant headwinds.

This combined with the omnipresent desire to go faster, especially if someone is front of me created the conditions for a fantastic ride home.  I sprinted away from the first stop light and continued to mash and hammer away for the better part of the ride.  Breaks in traffic appeared when I needed them and the path was all but deserted.  Not a single rabbit to be had but plenty of inspiration in the suffering.  I made it to the train crossing in what felt like record time, spinning through the gates and across the little bridge.  It’s maybe 50 meters due east until you start heading north again but the east component of the southeast wind was kicking up something fierce and I ran into a wall, suddenly grinding away in the middle of my middle ring.  I finally wheeled back north and began the mental prep for the grind up to the pedestrian bridge.  Get some speed going, keep it up until it’s almost time to shift down, then shift up a gear or two , stand up and pedal.

Once again, eyes on my front tire, mentally climbing a ladder and trying to stay on my side of the path.  The Quitter thundering through my head – “hey, you’ve ridden your heart out up to here, why not relax?  Man, there’s nobody fool enough to be out here anyway”.  We battled back and forth and for a Quitter he’s persistent.  I took a quick glance and was almost to the end – “come on, look how hard you’ve worked and you’re this far, just pack it in and sit down”.  Then, salvation in a shadow.

He didn’t announce himself but suddenly there was a shadow and then a wheel and then he was riding by me.  A mixture of feelings and a jumble of thoughts crashed through.  “Hey – another soul!  Wait, he’s passing me!  He’s working hard for it…but he’s still seated.  He’s got to be 20 years older than me…yeesh.  That bike is sure familiar.”  And then it dawned on me.  Dark metallic grey, matching fenders, but there were no panniers and no purple jacket.  My purple rabbit was in disguise!

I was ever so briefly in his draft before he pedaled away, working for every meter.  I pushed my way to the top and vowed to catch him.  A quick sprint to get some speed up, sit down and drop a gear to get the cadence up and mash away until it’s time to grab another gear, then top gear.  Despite this my rabbit hadn’t just dropped me.  Hadn’t just gapped me – he’d all but vanished.  As I finally hit 32^nd and started heading west, he was crossing the golf course entrance and riding along the last stretch before disappearing down to the substation.

I continued my furious mashing, jumping the curb and hitting the last section of path as he disappeared down the hill.  I debated the route – follow him around the substation in the knowledge that short of his heart-attack I wasn’t going to catch him or, cheat and cut along the guard rail bordering 32^nd catching him at the crosswalk detour still in effect.  “What hollow victory that would be” I thought and I chased him down the hill almost bailing into brush in the process.  I saw him slowing at the detour and thought I might be able to catch up with him if he’s held up by traffic but alas, not today.  My purple rabbit had passed me, dropped me and gapped me.  Skunked by a rabbit.

Arriving home I fumbled out the iPhone and stopped Strava’s ride timer.  It still felt fast but I shoved it back into my pocket while it churned away plotting and saving and uploading and doing whatever else it does while I let myself into the yard and put my bike away.  I’ve not had a chance to look at the results yet so let’s shall we?

• Average Speed- 27.3 km/h
• Peak Speed:- 59.6km/h
• Door-to-door- 28:36

Yes!  Has me wondering though – if I’m prepared to put that much charge into chasing down a guy clearly my senior, what am I going to do when I get chicked?