I killed this morning's group ride. Which is to say I managed to hang on to the stronger riders. I spent an hour and a half at 92% of my lactate threshold, which is a lot like a cattle egret hanging on to hide as the herd is driven across a river in flood.
Now this cattle egret is trying to celebrate back at home with some loud music, chocolate milk, and pasta. I need some Tom Petty or Meatloaf, but my iTunes Genius is serving up a reflective and loving selection of Colbie Caillat and Iron & Wine. I was planning on eating a big bowl of pasta and taking an ice bath, but now, for some reason, I think I'll just have some Greek yogurt and gently exfoliate with a loofah.