“The season is over, it’s time to rest”, he heard from the Bike Nazi, who always knows best.
Those words of advice made him think twice, but he poured on the coals and ‘to hell with HIS goals.’
It’s all about fun, this race with the sun.
Down on his aeros he looks to the right and sees the shadow of a time trialist cast from the light.
With a wall of amber corn stalks like a big screen, he could see an aero man on his TT machine.
As drops of sweat fell from the tip of his nose
he accepted the season was coming to a close.
The season was waning and so was his form, but not many days would still be this warm.
It won’t be long now and those stalks will be gone and the “machine”, as he calls it, will be on display… in his home.
He rides for a reason from season to season.
When his legs drive his steeds he has all that he needs.
Through wind, rain and sleet, he trains to defeat, the demons he contends with when he puts up his feet.
The pain comes mainly when he tries to sleep – some superficial and some quite deep. “Periodization” comforts his soul as he drifts off to sleep thinking of next season’s goal.
As long as he’s ridin’ his mind never drifts, to dark scary places he’d rather miss.
The shadow rolls on and soon it is gone, but the image he’s left with carries him on.
On through the winter and into next spring, he savors those moments and the pleasure they bring.
Like a bountiful harvest they carry him through, the dark times when clunker bikes and indoor trainers must do.