Yesterday. Labor Day. I labored.
Yesterday's plan was for 90 second hill repeats. Sixty seconds of pretty darn hard*, then the last 30 seconds out of the saddle for an all-I-am-worth sort of effort. I manged seven.
For the task, I found a nice little steep-ish hill just outside of town to throw down on. Or throw up on. Either one.
After my first interval I notice them there. I wave. I smile. Sheepishly. From them: nothing.
After my second interval I notice them again. Their eyes are glued to me. I nod. I smile. Still no response.
Again and again I huff and puff my way up this hill. I'm getting a little louder with each ascent. There is guttural groaning. I'm throwing the bike from side to side wildly. I'm loud. I'm visible. But no response from the spectators. To them, I was a Martian.
I tried harder. I went faster, groaned louder, sprinted more wildly. Anything for a response. Nothing. I, alien.
Nonetheless, they lessened the pain. I wasn't working out, I was performing. Spectator value.
*I say "pretty darn hard" because my PowerTap is down and I couldn't gauge exactly how hard. But if I'd had it, I'd been shooting for around 420-440 watts, then 500+ for the last 30 seconds. And my PowerTap is down, I presume, because the batteries in the hub are dead. But I can't replace the batteries in the hub because I haven't been able to get the hub cover off. It's very frustrating.