Portland International Colourway

Ok, so I did PIR tonight. Why bother just trying to ride after months of being off the bike when you can go race with 80+ guys on a flat 1.9-mile closed circuit?

The good news is that I’m not totally out of biking shape, although everything outside of the draft was mighty painful and the sharp end of the race looked way off in the distance. It has been so long since I felt the ebb and flow of PIR – a school of angry, colorful tropical fish moving together and apart, fast and slow, in ways that might appear frantic and unpredictable. There are few things more important at PIR than learning to swim – weaving your way through the pack with the most economy and knowing when and where things are about to happen. I had lost some of that skill, and I found myself on the wrong side of the group a few times and having to work hard to find shelter, or behind or giving up wheels that in the past I would have never considered. But I could fake it well enough to survive and I was not there to race, to compete. I was there to participate, to say hello to the racing community, and see what the hell my left leg felt like after months of trying to re-align the left side of my body.

The bad news is that my left leg sucks. My right leg loves pedaling, spinning those circles in what feels like continuous motion and power. My left leg cries in anguish and resists – immediate fatigue, weakness, soreness and a feeling like I’m just stomping through sand from the top of the stroke to near the bottom, but my foot does not even want to complete that motion. The rest is some sort of weird pimp strut hip swing to get the leg through the back side of the stroke. At least that’s what it feels like on the inside. How did I race with this last year? How much upgrade adrenaline did it take to ignore it and to be fast in spite of it? I can’t imagine it now.

More importantly, to keep with the theme of just doing things all at once, all-in, I threw on some Rotor Rings this weekend. Didn’t try them or even adjust my front derailleur before PIR. Honestly, I’m not sure what to say. I do know that the first few pedal strokes out my driveway felt amazingly non-round, but that feeling went away immediately and then I was just cruising along (with my pimp strut). PIR was hard, but maybe these rings helped me stay in there as well as I did.

When I got home, I looked down at my right calf and saw the dreaded chainring tattoo. Ugh. Those Rotor Rings might be PRO, but they couldn’t save me from looking like a dork. Not cool with my swanky new PBS kit (which feels and fits great, by the way – very nice job, Castelli). I’d offer to give some follow-up impressions of rings and possibly kit, but I don’t think I’ll be riding again in the near future.

Maybe I can use the rings for one of those sweet “Recycled Bike Parts” clocks or other paraphernalia. Or maybe Chinese throwing stars.