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Pic is of the Tioga Spider. The saddle is actually fairly comfortable, within the set of carbon fiber racing saddles here.
I was in a bread and butter one day criterium, cruising in the middle of the front group waiting for someone to make a move, maybe 15-20 mins left, feeling the tempo gradually ramp up. One of the guys ahead of me pedal strikes, but still holds on. However, this jolts everyone into go time. I get jostled and bumped a couple of times, but still hold it togeher. I hear a crack, and at least two riders go down.
I'm in a high zone 3, figuring out where I need to be in the mess, taking it down a notch, when I realize something feels off with my bike.
Front wheel and fork look fine. Check the cranks. No problems there. Look back. Rear wheel and DR look fine. So I settle back down to finish out the race when I realize it's the saddle that's feeling weird.
Everything seems to be running well enough so I decide to keep going. The race continues. The pursuit I was in catches up to the breakaway, I'm in a good position with just a little time left, and I notice that my strullerman feels cold. Not in the nerve pinch kind of tingly cold. More refreshing. That's when I realize there's rips and tears in my lycra.
I realized that my CF saddle was in the process of becoming a CF cheese grater, was shredding the fabric of my lycra, and was getting worse every time i put more weight on the saddle.
I honestly should have called it quits there, but the combination of mind haze, adrenaline, and potential podium spot made me decide the best option was to get on the rivet, and go.
I honestly don't remember most of the race from there. I remember thoughts floating in my head like:
>SLOWING DOWN MEANS SHREDDED BALLS. GO GO GO.
>SADDLES ARE FOR THE WEAK.
>THE ASS GOBLINS ARE AFTER YOUR DICK.
