John goaded me into doing Wachusett on Friday evening, without Eve, because "tomorrow does not look good." I dragged my ass out onto the 50 mile route despite it being a work day. Saturday it rained cats and dogs all day. 53 rides, and that was the only time rain was a factor. It drizzled a little once, the day I had the pleasure of Adam for company. A great day anyway, as he achieved a lifetime best of 52 miles, and I was there to share it.
We had no snow this year. February was a record warm, and March and April were a record cool, so I was (nearly) always able to ride outdoors. It never rained, except indoors under the wind trainer. I put this down at least in part to an expensive super-light-weight rain jacket I treated myself to in late March. I even told Claudia at the time "if shelling out for this this means I'll never need to use it, it will be money well-spent." I got to complain that I felt like I was never going to be able ride without booties and jackets, and often my feet were still frozen solid by the time I got home, but secretly I knew how lucky I was. Cold is one thing, wet is quite another. And snow would have stopped play altogether.
But the wind blew (except indoors where I could have really used it). On circuits, the wind was in my face all the way around. I rode down to Rhode Island one Saturday, 85 miles with a 15-20mph headwind. 50 mile trip back on Sunday morning and the wind had reversed—I'm not kidding, the giant flags of the car showrooms on Route 1 confirmed that they were pointing right at me both days. An article on the Harpoon website claimed that "headwinds are your friend" (more stamina building).
How true. In addition to June 16 lowering both the temperature and humidity, there was not a breath of wind, at least not until afternoon, when I'd broken the back of the problem. It felt like I was riding downhill the whole time.