Friday, January 01, 2016

Fuck Off Cold

So... New Years day.

I went to bed at 12:40, having driven home a tortuous route from my friends house (Anthony and Liz thank you).  Honestly, this year we really need to persuade the council to build that zip wire across the valley... or I could have been well and walked home in a straight line.

I got fed up with towing the heavy line of recovery last night and had some red wine.  Good stuff was on offer so it would have been rude of me to refuse since TSK was recovering from his hangover (thank you Rita for giving my husband a hangover) and playing DD for the night.

We indulged in our regular traditions of Scalextric and watching other peoples fireworks, being the only idiots standing around in the freezing conditions (little happy dance from me because it's cold again and I like to spread the love when standing around in the street with lovely friends and skinny cyclists who are soft - you know who you are).



Despite my best intentions to start persuading my body to get up early, I ignored my 7:30 am alarm and slept through until 10:30 am and read before getting up, eating, knitting, reading more.

Finally I'd had enough (again) of waiting for this cold to go away: waiting for my opportunity to train; the distracted, wandering thoughts flitting through my head; a complete lack of focus.  Am I missing my job?  Dear god - no, but in the absence of anything else really constructive and consuming to occupy body and mind?  I am missing engagement.  Andrew was tidying out the basement of stuff, searching for the truing jig to build wheels for Jes (thank you Jes) and really, I felt no better reason for me to get Phoenix out of Andrew's way and set up the rollers in the kitchen for a blast.

Yesterdays engaging activities included sorting out a playlist for the new laptop with all my favourite training tracks so I was ready to go.  I even got everything ready - bike, speed sensor, laptop, speakers, rollers, Garmin - before getting changed.

Of course, two tracks in and the computer stopped talking to the speakers and by the time I got back to my bike, the speed sensor stopped talking to the Garmin so time, miles and tracks were lost.

I promised myself no big ring riding to keep sensible with my lungs but then Green Day happened and I am unable to control myself in a song about cyclo-cross.

I also discovered a new game - that on my bike, I can play all of the guitar chords to the Plain White T's "Delilah", to "Go", by Delilah and just to prove that it's not just Delilah at work, also Red Hot Chilli Peppers "Breaking the Girl" and Birdy's "Skinny Love", which is a relief since my voice really can't hit the high notes this week.  It's an interesting game, simply ignore the beat of the music and pedal as fast as you need to in order to achieve the right squeal on the tyres.  Perfect for imitating those little surges associated with road racing or riding through mud.

Quite frankly, for a sick person, I beasted myself.  Though to be fair, I also went pretty easy on myself compared to my usual turbo sessions so I am proud of myself too.  Only one 2':20" foray into Zone 5.

And so, I feel tired, my brain feels still(er) for the first time all week and most importantly, I can start to enjoy 2016, not spend any more of it than I have to moping.

*Happy* New Year, everyone.

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