Blogging a bit more often than I have been doing would seem to be the right thing to do, now I’ve kind of dragged my backside out of my endurance racing sabbatical. Perhaps someone out there is still interested in how many times a week I get soaked on a training ride or possibly would be half-bothered if I’ve bought a new pair of shoes or something.
In the past few weeks I’ve ridden a 300 mile charity ride, a stage race in Spain, a painful duathlon (never again!), a super-hilly gravel ride in Yorkshire and I’ve been welcomed by the local cycling lads and lasses (shout out to the Newton Stewart Thursday night bunch!) so I suppose it’s been a decent run so far. 2018 is already 100 times less shite than 2017.
Since the first time I rolled my new Blur CC out of the house (and subsequently died on my arse) at the Glentress 7 over 11 weeks ago, I’ve gradually got my body and mind back into the routine of more regular big rides and more recently I’ve reminded myself what interval training feels like.
I’ve also noticed that at 47 years old, losing weight isn’t the piece of cake (or bowl of salad) it used to be…
Of course, it’ll all be absolutely fine – I’ve been here before and my level of enthusiasm seems pretty good for now so we’ll see how we get on.
As well as all the help I’m surprisingly still enjoying from all my regular sponsors and supporters (and family) Dave is helping me along on the road to the 24 Hour World Champs in October – I’ve kind of got a bit bored of my regular training routine that I’d been using for years of 24 hour racing, so Dave’s pushing me harder and while the goals are the same, the preparation feels new and a lot more exciting.
I can’t seem to be able to tell myself to break myself to pieces any more, I need someone to tell me to do it. Weird eh?