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A conversation with my legs

by dinoapolito — last modified 2008-03-02 20:25

The Scene: Sunday morning at the Apolito household and I've just got up to prepare for the 5th round of the Trek Match Sprint Series

"Good Morning legs! Time to rise and shine. Big day ahead of us". I'm trying to put on a happy face.

"What's going on? Put us back to bed. We're tired" replies right leg. (Right leg is the dominatrix and does all the talking. Lefty is the quiet one)

"Come on. It's the fifth round of the TSSS today and I want to do well."

"What the hell are you talking about. We raced yesterday"

"Not very well either" I reply under my breath

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you weren't much good to me yesterday were you? They want to put me down to C grade."

"Oh great. Blame us again. What about your heart and lungs.? We never hear you complaining to them!"

"Christ" I think to myself. I don't believe this.

"Look, I'm working on my heart and lungs as well. It takes time with them. And they're not as moody as you lot."

"Bloody favouritism" pipes in Lefty.

"Listen. Is it too much to ask that all my body parts work together for a change? Now will you guys not be so tight and just loosen up a little. Please!" (I'm getting increasingly desperate)

"It'll cost you."

"What! I gave you a soak and a shave last night"

"That's not good enough"

"And the razor was blunt" chips in Lefty

"OK. Here's the deal. You win me some money today and I'll shout you a massage"

(A moment's hesitation as they consider this)

"OK. It's a deal" replies Righty on behalf of both legs

"And a new razor too? adds Lefty

"And a new razor"

Later that day my legs gave me a 14.28 for the flying 200. Half a second faster than in Round 1 but still outside my PB. I also won my first round sprint. I thought they were now co-operating. Little did I know what was to come

"You're doing good legs. That first race hurt and I can tell you're tired "

"We're going home now. We've had enough already"

"Don't be ridiculous. No one leaves without me. And besides we've got Rob Monteath next. And you remember what he did to us last time?"

"Hey don't blame us. It wasn't our fault."

"I'm not blaming anyone. Let's just try to keep him under control and when I say GO you go as hard and fast as you can and don't slow down until I say so. I've looked ahead at the draw and we need to win this one to make the final." I'm trying to remain calm.

The legs, heart, lungs and brain work together to record a good win

"Happy now?" asks Lefty showing unusual bravado

"Shut up. I can't breathe"

"Good to see those heart and lungs doing some work for a change"

"Remind me when we get home to sign that organ donor card. If I can't work you lot out maybe medical science can."

Despite all my diplomacy, the legs are getting more and more tired and I'm very worried about their wellbeing. They do just enough to beat Karen in the third heat. The final is next.

"Boss?"

"Yes Lefty"

"I can't go on."

"Yes you can. You've come all this way. I just need one more max effort."

"No. We've had enough." It's Righty again trying to re-assert his authority

"Remember the massage and how much you enjoy Marissa's soft hands and warm oils?"

"No. We have had enough and that's final"

The time for diplomacy is over I know what to do next..

"Would you prefer me to take up running?" I know this is the ultimate threat and it does the trick.

"You can be a real bastard sometimes."

"Good. Let's go and win this thing."

The final starts and we all do a good job controlling Nicole until she jumps through a hole that I didn't know was there and establishes what looked like a match winning gap

"LEGS!" I shout

"WHAT?"

"WE HAVE TO REALLY GO NOW"

"WE KNOW. JUST SHUT UP AND RACE"

And so in a belated example of co-operation the legs, heart and lungs work like never before, pushed on by a head that just did not want to lose. Nicole is caught approaching the final bank and the brain correctly calculated there was no time to sit and relax behind her and told the body and bike to go around NOW and just drive for the line. Everyone obeyed and a memorable win is recorded.

"Boss?" whispers Lefty as I'm hanging on to the fence at the finish line fighting the shakes and trying hard not to vomit.

"Yes"

"Don't you dare throw up on us down here"

"I won't. We're finished. That'll do legs. That'll do."

Later that night we're all lying in bed trying to sleep

"Legs?"

"Yes" replies Righty rather tersely. He hasn't forgiven me yet

"I'm proud of you"

"Good"

"Oh and I forgot to mention....."

"We've got pursuit training tomorrow night and motorpacing the next morning"


"OUCH OUCH OUCH" I'm racked in pain as both legs spontaneously cramp.






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