27 Oct

I’ve not been everywhere.  But as far as I can tell, every local cycling scene has its own version of it — Wednesday Night Worlds, the Mid-Week Training Crit, the Hump Day Hammerfest.  Or in fall, Wednesday cyclocross practices.  In my old corner of Boston, summer was for the Concord Hill Ride, with the midway sprint up Strawberry Hill.  Fall was for bandit cx practice on Wednesday night, followed by burritos in Davis Square.  Around here, it’s the Hills of the North ride on spring and summer mornings, super-secret ‘cross practice in the fall.

Wednesday is both far enough from last weekend that you’ve recovered from the race or the all-day adventure but close enough that the sense of achievement (or disappointment) can motivate you.  Close enough to be fired up about the upcoming weekend but not worried about irrecoverably burying yourself.

Racers take it up a notch on Wednesday.  Tuesdays may be for the detailed, power meter-governed workout your coach prescribed.  Thursdays are a calculated risk to put in just that little bit more before pre-race recovery.  But Wednesday?  That’s when you take out the stops, gather up some of your fellow lunatics, and beat on each other.  Preferably with some sort of imbibing of food or beverages afterward.  As that coffee chain is telling us lately, “Take Comfort in Rituals.”

Hell, even after this morning’s cx practice got rained out (concerns about preserving site access weigh heavily on the mind of the semi-urban crosser) but I was still psyched even though it meant a day in the basement on the trainer.  The carryover euphoria (Wednesday!  Wednesday!) was enough.

I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of bike racers who suffer from the Hump Day blues.


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