Nice sunny weather all day yesterday, that was until I started to get ready for a ride. Then the rain started. Undeterred, I set off on my usual Macclesfield-via-the-Peaks route, feeling good despite the rain. Soon, the rain stopped and I was riding at a good average – my cold is definitely pretty much gone now as I only coughed up about 3 pounds of phlegm as opposed to 12 and that was early on in the ride. Once my lungs had opened up I felt fine. The climbs at Stalybridge, Chunal and Kettleshulme were dispatched quickly and I was feeling great….that was until the last 10 miles of the ride when I remembered that I’d not eaten anywhere near enough during the day – not only that, but I’d not bothered to bring anything with me. When will I learn? Just because the route is a familiar one I seemed to think that it was going to be easy. It wasn’t and I was getting dangerously close to the bonk. All I could think about was food – I swear if I’d seen anyone walking past I’d have asked them for some grub or just bit into them.
I stopped to get my heart rate down and to get my head together, set off again and kept the HR around 60%. I wasn’t sure if this would help in all honesty but it seemed to.
Within seconds of getting into the house I’d already eaten cake, a large bowl of cold baked beans and half a pint of milk….and that was just the start of a locust-style feeding frenzy (sorry about that Kath. Burp).