Small "group," flat roads

The Sunday group this morning was just Olaf and me, which made me realize that another reason for feeling so-so on the bike is the switch from real group rides in Milwaukee (5-10 or even more people). Here, the largest group I've been in has been four, and often it has been less than that. So you spend a lot more time with your face in the wind, which makes it harder. This combined with the relentless flats, which causes you to sit in the same position, in the same gear, for mile after mile. The hardest is when you go into the new land, the new polder, where there are few towns, and lots of long dikes and country roads. Even less reason to stand up, shift, or otherwise change your rhythm. My mom lives in the polder, so I've had the pleasure of riding there several times already, including today. (On the up-side: the views are great, and even better is the lack of traffic). Today Olaf had to go one-way to Zwolle, in the "near East," as they used to say at my dad's company, Stork Werkspoor Diesel in Amsterdam. The wind was out of the east, so I let him draft most of the way to our coffee stop, given that I could ride home with the tailwind whereas he had to continue on his own into the wind. The last five or so miles to the restaurant (at the Harderwijk bridge), miles 29-34, were pretty uncomfortable, and so was the first half of my ride back. To bolster my theory, I had a section through the town of Blaricum, where there were two "hills" in quick succession, followed by some twisting and turning through Bussum. Leaving that last town behind, I realized that the discomfort I had felt earlier (especially lower back) and virtually disappeared. It is a beautiful day, for a change, and I learned that on nice Sundays here, you should try to finish your ride by late morning, because that's when the retired couples come out to ride. They ride side-by-side, taking up the better part of the bike path, and sometimes they're so slow that they can't go in a straight line. So you're constantly calling out warnings, hoping that they move over in time. Sometimes, they do something unexpected almost causing an accident. This morning I was motoring on the left half of the bike path past an old guy who out of nowhere swerved well over into the left-lane. I could just avoid hitting him and a bad word came out of my mouth (it was one of these situations when the language comes out long before you can consider what words to use). Grandpa seemed to have something smart to say in return nonetheless. Still, overall a pretty nice day. 68 miles with an average of 19.3 or so.