In an effort to make up some distance to get to at least 161 km this week and give myself a chance of cracking 200 for the 10 week running, I took Doris out early. The high cloud obscured the sun and it was mild enough but I just couldn’t feel the love this morning. All the way I couldn’t understand why I was struggling. I had done this longer route several times and I lacked my usual early morning zip. Tired maybe? It’s true, the cat woke me twice but I went back to sleep OK and lately, the morning commutes feel great, often the best part of my day despite . After 24km, I stopped for a rest and drink, hoping that my legs would bounce back that the predominantly down gradient in to town would assist me. That it did but only just as I arrived at work feeling every minute my age.
As if to reinforce my disappointing start to the day, my tech had to leave to get her eyes seen to urgently and would not come back leaving me to be in 3 places at once. I did not stop until I got on the saddle again, my legs still not having forgiving me for pushing them just that bit too far this morning. So I decided to go easy on the way home taking the shortest possible route to avoid further punishment.
I left after rush hour so the roads were not a perceived concern. I ambled along the cycle paths in town and once out, sat on the bars, in granny gears up hills and freewheeling down them. I was content with a reasonable speed without trying and was pleased to get home having nibbled my way towards my yearly target. It was not my finest bike commute day.