Tuesday, May 3, 2011

On the track

I am not dead. FaceFace guessed Wednesday. My official time trial is on Thursday, I'd bet that is the day I die. I've only vomitted twice. But it may very well be the perfect life: eat, ride, eat, ride, eat, team meeting (ok, that's not so fun) and then sleep. I'm having a hard time because although this is the Paralympics I'm probably the most disabled of the athletes. Most of the athletes have upper limb impairment, blind or PTSD. I get dropped on nearly every ride. I was getting frustrated because I get smoked on the road and then on the track.

On a velodrome you ride fixed gear bikes. Not the lame hipster fixes (OK they are...but we don't ride at night while drunk). The track is a totally different experience from the road. The San Diego track is in pretty poor condition but it was perfect for learning. On a fixed bike you can't stop pedaling. Literally. You can try, but the stupid bike pedals keep rotating. For people who have a hard time clipping in and clipping out, stopping can prove to be difficult.

On the second round of pace lines (20 laps), I dropped after my pull. I had an awful cramp in my calf. Or so I thought. When we went to sports med, they think (as all medical personnel do) that because of my low muscle capacity I am prematurely going anaerobic. Take that all of you who told me to spin faster! I was born (OK was medically transformed) to be a masher. So there. The coaches originally categorized me as a C5 (pretty much no impairment - arm amputation , etc.). But I got "downgraded to a C4 yesterday and today I got downgraded to a C3. But actuallly that is better, the lower I am classified the slower the qualifying standards are. I have to be officially classified by a doctor and there is only one in the US - Dr. Bob. So they are encouraging me to race in Nationals in Augusta, GA in June because Dr. Bob will be there.

Tomorrow we will go back to the velodrome in the morning for unofficial time trials. Then the afternoon recovery ride. We are going on a field trip at night, back to the track, to watch real people race.

I. Am. Tired.

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