Last time I rode, home specifically, I encountered another rider heading my way. He passed me when a light changed and, mainly because I was in the @$$-end of my ride, the part where no matter how great I feel when I'm putting along my legs start to die on me, I decide to pace him. Keep in mind that I was in mountain shorts (nobody wants to see me in spandex these days) and had a pannier on the back end full of clothes, and my semi-companion was in nothing but bike clothing with a wee-little Camelback.
For about 2 miles (out of my 10) I went harder than I've done for a while - held better than 17 mph and cranking at around 85 rpm. It felt great.
The next morning - not so much...
Another Whistler Edit by Bernard Kerr
5 hours ago