Last night was the weekly LBS ride. My legs were still feeling tired from all of the recent mileage due to training for Calvin’s. That was about 273 hard miles in four days (45, 30, 101, 97). This night, the fast guy showed up. Yes, he is the guy who can easily put the hurt on an entire A-rider group and drop it like a hot potato, leaving behind him a group of french fries. So last night, I’m just following along, moving out into the wind to get some resistance as needed, climbing the hills with the group, and feeling my tired legs. Then we arrived at the beginning of the big sprint that is in the middle of the ride. I say “ride”, but you know it is just the modern version of an illegal street race with hot rods from the fifties and sixties. It’s a long way to the stop ahead sign, so going out early is not recommended for sprinting. But fooey to that nonsense! As soon as we crossed the last intersection, things started to heat up. The fast guy, a previous professional athlete and Olympian, made his move. He has no fear because he can drop anyone in the area. Really, his uniform should be blue and red with a big S on his chest. He’s that fast. Hence, I dub thee Superman! He not only has super cycling powers, but he actually looks like Superman. He’s above the level of mere mortal cyclists like ourselves. So he made his move, and another guy followed him. I moved left and went around both guys. I pulled a gap and was out front for a little bit. But Superman pulled up behind me and started drafting. Then he pulled around and went out front with a guy in tow. I pulled into third position behind the second guy and drafted him. All the while, everyone else was in the dust. Then the second guy blew up trying to draft off of Superman going somewhere around 35 mph. So that screwed me up and I had to go around the second guy. He faded in the mirrors. I started gaining on Superman, but then it came down to just maintaining his speed because I couldn’t sustain a speed faster than his. I was a few bike lengths behind him and couldn’t get a draft, but I kept his pace. So we went on like that for a while and finally Superman got the sign. And I got my heart rate up to the highest this season so far. And I also got second place (which is first loser!). Then after a few more miles, we dropped out onto the final six miles to the last sign. He took off like, I don’t know, like a Superman out of hell I guess. I was a ways behind him and was going at the same maxed out speed, so I couldn’t catch him (again!). I dropped all the other A riders, but I was keeping an eye on them, way back, in my mirrors. But they weren’t gaining on me. I chased Superman for a few miles as fast as my tired legs would go, and then I spotted a group up ahead. This was the B group and all the A riders who had dropped early from the A group. As I approached from behind, I noticed Superman at the front of the group, just recovering and dragging everyone along. So I caught up to the group and passed it on the left at a speed higher than the group could manage. And I also passed Superman, who was on the front. We had a couple of hills coming up. It got sketchy before a big downhill. Then I started dropping and pulled around one guy who was in front of me so that I was in the lead, dropping like a rock downhill. Everyone was fading into the background - except for Superman, who was chasing me downhill! I stayed away but he passed me after the bottom of the hill and went out ahead. I dropped all the riders in the group and began chasing Superman yet again. Another mile or so and he got the sign. And I was following a ways behind and got first loser, again (sigh). The other guys were nowhere to be seen being so far behind. They were all history. So that’s the epic battle of Superman versus some normal guy riding a souped up, high-tech Batbike. (Gee, this kind of sounds like the makings of a movie - but the title should be shorter.) Until we meet again Man of Steel...until we meet again.
