Last night I must have gone to sleep and woken up eight month's later. In February. Or at least you'd have thought it was with the cold wind, intermittent squawly showers and all round gloom. But no, this was the archetypal English Bank Holiday weekend in all its glory. The day I had arranged to meet Skip at 8.30AM in Axbridge for a ride.
I made some plans the night before, but the weather, my fatigue, her dislike of hills, put the kybosh under all of them. We did a circuit of Weston, and I offer this apology to Skip, who did most, no, all of the hard work. That was when she wasn't leaving me for dust. Except it was too wet for dust. Of course, as I type this, the sun is coming out, the ground is drying up, and it's turning into Spring again. Maybe.
Not a particularly eventful ride, but the company, when I could keep up with her, was pretty good. Because of the early start, there was no coffee stop (all still closed) and I guess I may have pushed myself a bit yesterday. Interestingly my average speeds from the two days cycling were about the same. Yesterday I felt like a jet-propelled Mark Cavendish, and today I felt like I was crawling though treacle.
C'est la vie, voila Charlie:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/31930696
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1 comment:
I was only leaving you behind since, due to my inconsiderate lack of mudguard, if you'd stayed too close you'd have gotten even muddier! *grin*. No apology needed :)
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