First the details.
Goal today was to go 70K and hit each hill with 90+ cadence for it's duration. Had a little trouble early on but by 20K I was in a rhythm and did pretty well. Granted I had to get into the small ring and down to the 25 cog but I did sustain ~90 rpm on 95% of the hills. While I figure out the next month of training I figured getting on some 4-6% hills and maintaining 90 rpm would be important this summer so could do no harm. Legs are feeling Lactic good, although I am a litle concerned about my out of the saddle endurance and will probably have to work that into any training over the next month.
Then the impressions.
For whatever reason, today was attack dog day. No fewer than 4 dogs decided I looked appetizing. The first two were a little sad really. Short fat pudgy dogs with a lot more bark than bite. However, they did cross the road and chase be for a few meters. I did not even speed up in response. The third was almost an after thought by the pathetic beast. I was past his position and he gave a half hearted bark and run but nothing serious.
It was the last one that gave me serious pause. On the new section on road, I passed a house where a very large dog gave me a baleful look and decided I was not doing something right. He was large, well muscled and salivating. I'm certain he was salivating. He lunged across the road and took up position to my right rear wheel and loped along. His empty, souless stare pierced my psyche like a dagger. He was hungry and wanted a cyclist. His gaping maw opened. Saliva flowed in long sticky tendrils from the tips of his stained sharp teeth back along his snout, leaving silvery trails of anticipatory digestive death.
I immediately hit a higher gear and up my cadence. My heart is starting to get the rush being pushed out by my adrenal glands. I surge forward and look back.
He was still there. It did not same to phase him. His spine flexing like some giant spring, moving closer. Next gear. He's still there and gaining! Holy Fuck! This was getting serious. I hit the next gear and get out of the saddle. I really start hitting the pedals as I head down hill. This hound from Hell is loping along with a crazy glistening grin. He surges forward for the kill like some lion pouncing on the back of a baby gazelle. But, as he came for my calf I shifted up twice more and really used that adrenaline rush to punch it to the next level. If I was going down, this devil spawn was going to have to work for it.
As I looked behind me, this hound of the baskerville slowly dropped back and slowed, turning back to his territorial boundaries. I was safe.
Definitely need some protection next time.