Summer 2022

I hope summer 2022 is not over yet. It always reappears in September with a late come-back. However, it's got stormy and less hot hot and I've just had a long week of efforts and time away from the office so I feel the need to wrap up a post.

Thanks to my enthusiasm to open a laptop, these images are posted in mixed order and are just a handful from two busy weeks. The rest may appear on Insta at some point... or already have.

Some people attach their inspiration for completing LEL to their top tube. His kids had also doodled pictures on his frame bag 

The velomobile (at least, the only one I saw) outside Eskdalemuir. Note the extension lead hanging out the window charging his light batteries. 

Other inspirations

We were 'put up' in a little cottage down the road. Last time we volunteered here we slept in the old schoolhouse with rain hammering on the tin roof. That schoolhouse is now the cafe and the room where we previously housed riders is now an art gallery and function room. Depending on how you look at it, lucky (or unlucky) riders had a sleep there but only if they were truly exhausted. A few were. I was glad it was not my call whether to let them stop or not.

After the party had been cleared and we moved location, we went for a walk. 24km. The longest walk I've done in ages (possibly since I was ironman training).

We swam in the river Tweed to cool down and got dressed again in front of golfers on the other shore. Thankfully they found it in them to ignore my middle aged bod.

A sunset cloud above Eskdalemuir. Every night the hills would sweat their moisture into the sky leaving incoming riders damp and chilly. The mornings dawned to the chilliest little temperature inversions. It was pretty though.

The old village "clock" in St Boswells set into the wall of the house across the road from the shops.

Hillocks of the road, Borders country. Click for a castle lurking on the left. I was really pleased with my new commuter/audax bike bag which allows me to take photos without stopping. That's handy when TSK is timetrialling into a hairdryer headwind. We'd been debating stopping early for dinner which involved a diversion then retracing our route. In the end we got brave and were happy because we got to see Hume Castle, which we'd noticed on the way out. A gorgeous climb took us right past it then round the corner, a barbecue-ing family kindly replenished out water bottles for us.

Long straight b-roads in the sun with the sea fog of Berwick on Tweed in the distance. 

A kayaker on the Tweed.

When we arrived at Berwick we were in thick, chilly fog. I took this through my glasses to remove some of the solar glare off the cloud.

We dropped into England for a bit. I'd travelled no more than 300m before getting passed by a bloke in a transit van. Still, he gave me space. There were so many union Jacks and one 'the South will rise' flag which I thought a little inflammatory. TSK went for a wee and whilst I was taking this photo, heard a buzzy beastie in my teeshirt. After I apologised for stripping in public (again), two passing scots women checked my back for bees and fastened my bra up properly for me. What are strangers for?

Reg, I take your wells and I raise you. There's a themed ride here somewhere!

Back to Eskdalemuir and the amazing team lined up at the racking before things got exciting. 

Before we went to Scotland I left work on Friday night with a loaded bike and went out with Landslide for our August bivi. This is the ride home the morning after. A nearly-empty Burbage...ar least, it was still too early for the climbing groups.

No better view in the morning, even if I was a bit chilly overnight. 

Breakfast club. I am less worried than I look, although there was a cow behind me looking at my porridge.

Christmas yoga and swimming recovery

I have spent 2 days feeling like an old person. After swimming I drowned my green lungs in a small, Italian beer before being annihilated at Scrabble. On Monday TSK drove us home then I wilted under the duvet whilst he went out for a ride. On Tuesday I wilted under the duvet whilst TSK went out for another ride.  Like an old person, though, I did have a trip to the dentist and the doctor, just for some company... and fillings.

And I started a new knitting project.

After a prolonged day of knitting and sleeping we retreated to the Chinese takeaway for Christmas indulgence of a different kind. As I stood in the queue my legs started itching to move and I actually had to go out and pace up and down the street to feel better. Perhaps the illness is turning around. Sadly, after big food and TV the coughing was back. Not productive cough because you feel like it but annoying, tickly cough because you need to coughing.

I took it to bed and floundered. Literally until i finally suppressed it enough to sleep and woke at 8:30 with a bad back. Clearly been lying in the same position for 8 hours to avoid stirring the lungs.

I couldn't face another day lay on the sofa / bed / chair / floor so packed my swim stuff after breakfast and headed for the one place I have been comfortable doing any exercise this holiday - a nice chlorinated pool.

I didn't feel like it but I felt like doing nothing even less. Once in I started to wait for my body temperature to adapt but then concluded that the best approach was to let rip.

I had planned to do 12 lap sets, increasing on Sundays 300m sets by 33/25 times. I didn't know how much that was but it felt like it might be doable. First time around it was enjoyable. I hit 12 laps before I knew it and had to make myself rest. The next set I focused on pointing my toes since I noticed I wasn't doing it. Also if there's a time to use my legs in swimming it really has to be the time when I am unable to get out on the bike.

It made a difference - mainly that my breathing went to pot - but I was looking at my watch after 6 laps which (phew) turned out to be 8 as the next lap slid over to 10 and the 12 was done.

On the last set I kept count. I was tiring towards the end of the set but hey, I felt like I had more left in me. It was fine though. It's about consistency now and I want to be able to go again tomorrow - whether it's a swim or my beloved turbo.

I swam one more length to the end of the pool for my swan dive - pushing the boat out and flying in the face of fear that my sinuses would explode (they didn't).

With all that excess energy I decided to do my yoga at the gym instead of facing the prospect of my chilly loft when I got home.

Much to my dismay (ahem) the Sheffield Eagles rugby club were doing a spin session and I had to use all of my yogic strength to ignore their whoops and grunts as their coach led them through a gruelling spin set. However no amount of concentration could prevent me breaking out into a wide grin when they all started singing along with Justin Beiber's "Love Yourself". I was pretty impressed with the harmonies on 18 guys with legs the size of your average tree-trunk.

I mused over the yogic precept to 'speak no cruel words' and how difficult that is when the gymnasium offers such prime fodder.

The rugby team went home and I finished my set in peace, taking an indulgent moment to walk out without having touched a single machine. I also gave inner kudos to the man twice the size of me who joined me on the mat for a brief time to demonstrate his far superior flexibility.

The workout fired me up and felt much more beneficial than yesterday's slob-fest. I did shopping, household stuff I have been putting off forever and I felt like I earned this time, sitting on the sofa feeling fine.

Trepid Explorer, off to enjoy doing the dishes.