Windy, Warm and Definitely Not Zone 2

Today was unseasonably mild. Which, after last week’s 3-degree ice bath, felt like we’d accidentally booked a training camp in Spain. Melbourne remembered it was autumn, not Antarctica, so the long winter bibs have officially been benched. Windy, yes. But warm. I’m still undecided whether I prefer wind or cold… but at least today I could feel my fingers.

A few of us went to the rugby league in the city last night, so it was a late one. Predictably, Alex and Neil didn’t make the start line. Alex was crook, and Neil’s phone battery “died overnight.” Convenient. Especially from a man who last week left his cleats in Dandenong. The excuse catalogue is deep with this one 😂

Roll-up time for hour of power was… flexible. Most people cutting it fine - Callan cutting it finer than everyone else courtesy of a flat tyre. Quick roll call and the boys wasted no time getting stuck into the absentees. The kind of banter that would get you cancelled in most workplaces but is considered a warm welcome here. Definitely not repeatable in front of pregnant mums and children.

Briefing time. Steve had a shocking night’s sleep thanks to the kids. I was carrying the effects of a late night. A few others were still feeling yesterday’s efforts. Naturally, the phrase zone 2 was thrown around like we had any intention of sticking to it.

No group split today. One big happy bunch. “We’ll just keep it controlled.” Famous last words.

We roll out. The general takes the first turn. Speed creeps up… 25… 30… 35… 40. Zone 2 was not invited to this ride. Steve is flying. The training is clearly working, which is fantastic news for him and terrible news for everyone else.

Marco drops off the back early — yesterday’s ride still in the legs. We all silently thank him for the breather.

Then the wind shows up. Not just any wind — the kind that feels like a headwind no matter which direction you’re travelling. Except, of course, when we were heading due south… We managed to get all of our “due south” out of the way nice and early.

From there, it was a grind. Marco out the back again. Another breather for the rest of us. Thanks again, mate. 🫡

Rolling turns begin. Mick is glued to my wheel. I hit the front, and within seconds I hear the unmistakable sound of Mick’s hub ratchet behind me. The sound of shame. The universal signal that you’re doing such a poor job on the front that the group has started freewheeling.

That was my cue to peel off. Permanently. Self-awareness is important.

We link up with Ethen — first time we’ve seen him since becoming a dad. Early signs are promising. Not because of anything parenting-related… but because his mullet is still in elite condition.

Back to the café for the start of the Sunday social. Today’s route: Altona boat ramp. No “due south” salvation here. Just straight back into the wind again.

We hit the usual sprint spot. I was sprinting. Steve was… existing at high speed. I could just hold his wheel, which felt like a win. New recruit Cam was right there too — very handy. We’ll be keeping an eye on him.

Café chats turned to next week’s Great Ocean Road ride. Cam casually mentions that last time he did it, he bonked. Bold move bringing that up in front of Mick. Mick set the industry standard for bonking. 

We gave Cam the abridged version of Mick’s performance at Cadel’s 2025. They shared a moment and Cam gave Mick a respectful nod — the kind exchanged when you realise you’re in the presence of one of the greats at bonking.

Best dressed today: some solid contenders. A few of us in matching UKE kit. Cam looking like he’s just rolled off a WorldTour start line.

But this week’s winners… Alex and Neil.

Outstanding commitment to comfort. Elite level lounging. They looked fantastic in their pyjamas.