If it’s Tuesday and we’re leaving from the Farmers Market, that means we’re hammering, right? Nope, not if we’re talking about tonight. On this hot, hot evening our group that formed up was curiously immune to going fast. At least for more than a mile at a time.
On stretches of road where we’d normally be north of 30 mph, we were cruising at a comfortable 22-23. Where we’d be pushing 25, we instead kept our heart rates low, gave our lungs a break, and stayed at a slowish feeling 18-20.
At one point I rolled it up to 25 on a long, flat stretch, and once I pulled off waited…and waited…and waited for someone to pull through. Finally the group rolled past at a leisurely 17. So much for animating things.
Still, we averaged a decent 19.5 over 30 miles, but it didn’t feel like that much work.