In the past couple of weeks I’ve decided that “recovery” hurts. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it’s necessary and all that and to be fair if I’d not taken a couple of weeks off, as in doing nothing at all, after dragging my already-pretty tired carcass around the Relentless course for 24 and a half hours I’d have probably ended up in hospital anyway…but GOOD GRIEF I JUST WANT TO BE THIN AND FAST AGAIN.

I’ve not bothered weighing myself for a while. No point. I know I’ve overindulged on crappy food and red wine and I can tell that I’ve eaten very little in the way of healthy food because I’ve had a cold for a week and I’m constantly sleepy – presumably something to do with a lack of vitamins or something. Dunno.

That’s all out of my system now though and as far as I’m concerned I’m fully recovered and rested. If I try to recover any more I’ll just go mad and probably start running around outside in my underpants with a colander on my head.

So….my return to Doing Stuff and Eating Properly Again has coincided with the arrival of the autumn miserable weather and almost-constant darkness. After a road ride in the Dales with Dan where my extra bulk became obvious during a particularly painful ascent of Fleet Moss, I’ve spent the last week or so getting wet and muddy; slipping and sliding on local trails that not too long ago were dry and dusty. At least I’ve got the place to myself again.

To remind me what can be achieved with a lot of hard work and dedication (and not sitting around eating pasties), this arrived today. My medal from the World Solo Champs. Ok it’s 17 months since that race but it’s still lovely.