No train. The cycling cognoscenti reading this will see my header for what it is. A witty pun on my ability to actually leave the house on a bike and train for the London to Paris ride against the “train” that the pro teams get going on the run in to the end of a race, to lead their sprint man to the line. Or not.
For a blog about training, I seem to spend a lot of time writing about why I didn’t actually get out and ride, which if nothing else, as I mentioned before, at least serves to keep my lethargy fixated in my mind. And make me feel bad. Actually, its not for want of trying and I had expected to write about my lack of action again this weekend.
Beth worked Saturday and Sunday so I hadn’t planned to get out. So it was with mixed emotions that I watched, Ed, Peaches and Half Mile set off across the car park on Saturday morning for a 50km spin in glorious sunshine without me.
In anticipation I had done two big gym session Thursday and Friday. Thursday core work, Friday I did some punishing reps on the static bike, 30 minutes hill climb reps followed by 15 minutes sprint reps, for which my quads didn’t thank me on Saturday, as they screamed every time I tried to climb the stairs. I also made a point of cycling to work as often as I could last week, 3 days, which amounts to about 30km in total. And, as it happens Beth finished work early on Sunday, giving me the opportunity of an hour’s sunshine before dark. I whipped out the fixie, got changed and shot off towards Beausale with a spring in my step (pedal?) and with the Kings of Leon coming in my ears (©ChorleyFM) to push me on, thankful for the opportunity of a bonus ride. A spring which was soon lost as I hit the first hill and realised that bikes have gears for the same reason cars have power steering. You can ride without them but it’s a helluva lot easier with.
Joining the Coventry Road to head out towards Kenilworth I hadn’t yet got into my stride when a teenage boy in a duffle coat astride a mountain bike with big knobbly tyres passed me with some speed and, I thought, too much glee in his face. Of course this was a complete affront to my lycra clad roadie sensibilities, so I put the hammer down, caught him up and couldn’t resist shouting “look, no gears” as I sailed past. What a flapjack. Could I be any more childish or immature? I then had to ride as fast as I could to get away from him, so I didn’t look like a complete tool, if he caught me. Although he probably thought as much anyway. Why do I do these things? At least it gave me something to think about as I struggled up the hill to Leek Wootton. Behaviour like this makes me grateful to work for a large multinational. If I worked for myself, I think I’d have left by now, citing personal differences. I can imagine ringing myself up and telling me that I can no longer work alongside me, because I’m such a tool and being told not to come back to collect my things. I can see me gossiping about myself by the coffee machine, discussing all the stupid things I say. And giving myself a bad appraisal.
Anyway, despite my stupidity I managed 26km before dark through Beausale and Norton Lindsey on a lovely bright, but cold winter’s day. I reckon each click on the fixie is worth two on a derailleur enhanced bike, so I was well pleased with myself and came home full of adrenaline and pumped on endorphins (which is probably what made me get the vacuum out). I’m booked in to spin on Monday too. So all in all I’ve done quite a lot to keep my base fitness up but its not the same as road miles under the belt.
Of course the big news of the weekend wasn't about me (or the fact our boiler packed up) but Beth’s article in the Guardian about her experience of losing Tom http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/jan/17/experience-sudden-infant-death-syndrome.
This is of course ultimately what this blog is about. She wrote the piece herself and it has been well received. I have nothing but admiration for her honesty and bravery. And to cap that, she brought a bloke back from the dead at work on Sunday. His heart had stopped and she administered CPR to restart it. Blimey. And here’s me moaning about not getting an opportunity to ride my bike. She is some bird. Keep it in perspective eh?
So, as The Bees said: Chicken! Pay the monkey back! You can sponsor me here: http://www.justgiving.com/craigmorrisfsid
Thanks for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment