At least we're riding again.

I am, quite impressively, knackered.

Pretty much since my last post from Bearbones, I have not been riding my bike.  I got a cold which turned into a sinus infection complete with (skip to the next paragraph if you're squeamish) solid green bogies the size of cornflakes and eyelids glued together with custard-like concrete blocks.

It was very unpleasant and debilitating and yet it clashed with one of the busiest weeks in my project time line and so I worked through it.

I finally got the medical help I needed last week in the form of antibiotics and recovered relatively quickly although there's a toussel of a cough remaining.  I've been on a couple of gentle rides this week to help me deal with some real stressful situations at work.  Less training, more, recovering rides.  I did a fair amount of pushing and struggling.  Before that, I did some hiking which also involved a fair amount of scrambling up and down steep stuff I probably shouldn't have been on.

I didn't feel super-pumped this weekend and with severe winds yesterday, I decided to stay home.  By 4pm, though, I was itching for some exercise and to get back on a bike so, for the first time in months, I got on the turbo trainer.

For 20 minutes I pedalled rather aimlessly and faffed (situation normal).  I started to wonder whether I would ever make it through to zone 3 heart rate but persevered. Then the good music started and I found myself sprinting the beats as usual, doing some hard pedalling, some one-footed pedalling.  Then I climbed off and stretched, did some strength exercises and achieved yoga balances like never before.  It was immensely satisfying.

Not so good in preparing myself to go out for a ride today.

When I finally got out at 11am it felt good to be moving but things were clearly going to be slow.  I started heading for the Trans Pennine trail but as soon as I saw the car wash depot, I realised I'd left my camelback at home complete with water, food, money, cards so I threw a u-turn and headed home.  No longer inspired, feeling super tired, I decided to go home, have a sleep and try again later.

The only problem was, getting to the bottom of the hill up to my house, I couldn't even find the energy to ride my bike up to the house so I carried on up the valley, slowly pushing a tiny gear, to take myself on the path of least resistance back home the long way.

The advantage of doing so was I felt slightly better about the whole thing so diverted off a few minor bridleways to make the thing more enjoyable and get further away from the road.

It worked.  I got home still tired but happy.  Had some delicious lunch and flopped back into the sofa.   So, perhaps recovery is not going to be as glorious as I hoped but, at least it has started and that is really all that matters.

Thanks to modern technology I can reassure myself that this week I have done three times as much exercise as the week before and over half of what I did on Bearbones.  It's not time to pull the plug yet.

A complicated rest weekend has just begun.

It's a while since I've been here.

I've been busy.

I deserve a rest week as I've had three consecutive big weeks rides / races.

The sofa is the right place for me today except for a little clean of the bike which is also an important feat.

I felt a little dark about it yesterday, knowing that there's no way I'm going to hit this week's target (scheduling got weird and I did a 200 on my rest week so this rest week is not a scheduled one).

I've spent the morning reading inspirational work of women cyclists.

I've decided to rest the hell out of this weekend and resume next week (warmer) with early morning rides, long rides home from work and setting some rules around the hours I'm working - again.  Yesterday I hired a new guy.  Me.  I chose him.  We seem to get on well.  Things are looking good.

So I should be leaving the office on time again.

I'm also motivated to use the gym.  Yoga is all well and good but I need to start building the strength again.  Not just re-establishing what I had but building it beyond into what I used to have when I was 21.  I'm going to step away from the free weights, hit the machines, be that annoying twit who rests on machines and bash out some more serious weights going forwards.

To supplement all this optimism, I have just written a note in my diary to keep a look out for the HT550 entries for 2019 opening.  Not that I'm enjoying what I'm doing this year or anything.

Sunday will see a turbo session during which I split the rim on my rear tyre 40 seconds in, persevere and continue after lunch to belt out 21 hard miles.  The rest of the day pales into insignificance due to the glow of my achievement but also the depression that I did not ride this week.  Then I remember: I did not want to crash in ice and snow and I've ridden hard through 2 rest weeks and done in excess of 200k in three weekends out of 4.  I fucking deserve this rest week and I will start next week stronger because of it.

Run 4 of 100 and space

29th was the first day I had to myself this holiday. I had already set myself the mammoth task of tidying up the living room, moving all of the books into the loft to make more room for people. I started it on Sunday and mostly finished it on Monday while waiting for my cousin to pop in for tea.

It was great to see Keith and Daisy and hear about their wedding plans for 2015.

After finishing 'project floor', I jumped on the turbo. I say that like it happened really quick. Well after a day of hard labour in the loft the house was stone cold and I had to warm myself up as well as shift the bike, get the sensors working and actually amassed a selection of running gear with the intention of going back to the loft to do some strength sets in the newly appointed space.

The turbo session was tough. It was kinda difficult to engage and achieve high heart rates. Once there I was finding them difficult to sustain and started to tip the scale. I realised I was struggling to ride to a pace. Given that information I did manage to sort it out on the last few reps. Then jumped into my shoes and fleece leggings and sweatshirt to head out into the streetlights for an impromptu brick session.

There was only really our road that was cleared after TSK and 20 of our neighbours went out with shovels on Sunday to sort things out... so I did hill reps.

Determined to keep going towards my hundred runs in hundred days challenge I set my mind on doing 30 minutes. It certainly was a motivator because I first looked at my watch after 7 minutes. Not tired but bored. I'd probably already done 5 laps of the same street but my mind was made up and I turned the volume higher on my iPod and kept going. 13 minutes. Then Florence and the Machine, 'the girl with one eye' which will make anyone skip. I just hope my neighbours had shut their curtains by the time I skipped past their house at least 4 times. I had Eric Orton in my mind's eye, reminding me that, if you hate hill reps you're trying too hard. I kept it light, especially in view of my plans for mountain biking the next day, but with music alongside, the occasional Sprint crept in. After 29:55, another lap crept in to push me joyously into the 30 minutes timeframe with honour and I went inside to cook chilli.