Where did it all go? Or... Where did it all come from?

I struggled yesterday and I struggled today too. Where did all my hill climb fitness go?

It was only the mid cyclocross season when I was still doing 90 miles on a Saturday and racing on Sunday. In December I was aceing 200km and riding 500km over Christmas week and yet I have had a number of weeks where I just can't seem to get the miles to stick. Weekday miles come and go only to work and back and I can only manage 40 miles on a weekend day.

Where did the fatigue come from? - well, I know the answer to that one.  Last week's relatively hilly 200k plus three rides to work on a week which saw me working 50 hours.

But what happens is, I sit at home in between, knowing that sooner or later I have to start linking these days together just day after day after goddamn day because that's what I do now, every day. I ride my bike as far as I can, all the time.  My ride plan for the race is to ride at least 98 miles a day.  This will see me back just in time to catch my Ferry home.  I actually expect to ride more than that most days and then I look at myself now and think, no way.

It really is ages since I got in from a ride and needed a bath. Perhaps that is the problem. Rides have gotten too easy. In the interests of making them long, I have made them all slow and around a lack of stimulating speed the legs have got lazy.

Today I was so tempted not to go out but the weather was so nice I couldn't resist.  Cold as hell but the sunniest it's been in ages. I tried to take it easy and enjoy it since yesterday was hard enough but I couldn't help myself from heading into the peak and was rewarded with quiet roads due to the cold but an immense sense of wellbeing as the sunshine flooded my body and I was treated to a golden pheasant glowing in the sunshine and mile after mile of breathtaking scenery as the bright but low sun cast stark shaddows on the crags, which made me grin even when I was exhausted.

After lunching in Castleton then doing some ambling around plenty of climbs I stopped for tea in Tideswell before heading out for home around 4.  I threw in an extra mile whilst trying to decide which way to go home - opting to enjoy a climb over Great Hucklow and the lovely lane to Abney - my favourite road in the Peak.

And then, just when I thought I'd had enough, I towed a bloke up Surprise View Hill Climb and destroyed myself completely.  It did my ego the world of good and I actually dropped the fella and then he came back past me over the final climb to the Norfolk Arms, as I blew up unceremoniously.

As the sun set behind the moors, I struggled through Ranmoor and into Crookes and then flopped through the back door, my toes and fingers now searing with pain from the cold.  I ran a bath, didn't even pause to turn on the heating and drank recovery hot chocolate and tried to rewarm from the outside and inside. 

To my hands and feet, the water felt hot.  My legs weren't so sure, it felt hot but not as not as it did on my feet so my legs decided it was cold water.  My back and head (the warmest of my body parts) at least recognised the water as mostly warm, though I was slightly alarmed when both big toes went black.  The right one subsided quickly but the left one swelled into a blistered end with little feeling in it. 

It seems fine now but I think that (possibly initiated by my Kings Tree ride) is the closest I have ever come to frost bite.

After 5 minutes I added more hot water then had to leave the bath before things got too cold as the heating hadn't yet come on.

I went straight to bed.

TSK came in drunk from podcasting to rescue the heating situation and then at least I had to make some tea - which I have enjoyed immensely and feel moderately human again after my 40 minute turbo-kip post ride.  Moderately human I say.  It's nice to have this fatigue back.  It's nice to be contemplating going to work knackered tomorrow.  It's good that I got out two days on a row. I proved I can do it.  The fact that it was sunny is a boundless benefit.  I'm giddy on the vitamin D and now know never to miss an opportunity like that again.

There is so much to be said for a potter in your own back yard, because it can lead to something bigger, something better, or failing that, just a little sunshine.