Sunday, 13 February 2011

Pushing Boundaries

Love the word BONK. It suits exactly the state of my body today as I set out for a (press play on Gilligan’s Island soundtrack) three hour tour…
Saddled up ready to go I thrust the wanna bes over the seat post and set off. Up the hill I went. The call-outs start. Not in the hips or the gluts, but in the thighs.
The sound-offs then went through my gut like a rocket heading out to space. Was I sick? No way. Impossible.
Racking up the mileage is what you’re supposed to do. Gradually. I reckoned a build to Saturday’s epic would see me coast through Sunday’s (today's) additional three hours.
My week had dabbled with three Tripleshot Cycling (Predawn Cafe Destination Cycling Club) diddles. It was a chase with the pelaton. I held it down when I went with the C’s on Friday, but I did a snore.
So when it came to the fifth ride in a week and the sixth work-out of the week my body said, NO! While my mind went GO!
Good at suffering, I capitalized on my misery by rolling all the way to a decent coffee shop for a snooze over the daily and a mouthful of a day-old muffin.
I’ll not shed any more misery today I decide. I had the energy to do the chores. Ready for the craziness in a week.
Knowing also that when it comes to steady as she goes, for the training regime – careful how I go now with pushing boundaries.

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