I've discovered drafting in a big way. It used to be that when someone passed me I fought my way to the front and battled for first place (in my mind) for the duration we were on the same road. I'd arrive at work (or at home) feeling like I was going to have a heart attack but damnit I won, right? Right? I mean I'm lying on my side in my own driveway, feet still clipped into pedals, hyperventilating like a whale in heat (do whales come into heat?) but I got to the turn-off FIRST and I WON.
Wrong.
Now I get passed by these ten years younger guys and I settle comfortably into place immediately behind them. My Contraption Captain has hinted that this may actually be un-cool of me but I pointed out that if they don't want me following them I am definitely within earshot and they can use their words and tell me. "Use your words" I tell my kids, that means "don't hit the brakes and finish off that poor commuter chick."
Drafting is wonderful!
All of a sudden I am doing 22mph and I don't have a hair out of place. If they pick it up a little I just pick it up right after them. The wind that was wicked until Nice Roady arrived on the scene is now tame as a lamb. And who wants to give it up to some middle-aged female engineer? No one. If they start to slow down I lean on them just a little and they fall right back into line.
It's lovely.
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