Time to re-introduce myself to my family, the sofa, and the joys of eating badly, sleeping a lot, and dozing in front of Eurosport's coverage of a fantastic Giro d'Italia.
It is amazing what a few days of doing practically nothing can do for me. Last weekend, at the end of that event I would have been quite happy never to see a bike again, let alone ride one. My over complicated exercise-tracking spreadsheet was showing a worrying trend in decreasing average heart rate, and most worryingly of all, I was just starting the slippery slope towards the first of the steps leading to the edge of the abyss called "I really don't like cycling anymore".
But three café-cooked breakfasts, one fantasy film with Angelina Jolie (I didn't go with her, I went with the Rouleur family, but she was in it), and an average daily sleep quotient of 9.5 hours has restored my love of life and with it, the desire to be on the bike at all times.
Today, Jennifer, Clayton and I rode to Sweets café and back. I did a couple of extra hills for good measure, and although Strava thinks I did 51 mph coming down Shipham Hill, I don't believe it. It's not steep enough and I'm not that fast. But my heart rate was back up where it should be, and more importantly, it was fun.
The icing on the metaphorical cake (to go with the icing on the real cake, a lovely Victoria sponge if you care for such trifles) was the mending of my Somerset jersey's zip, meaning you can expect to see me wearing it a lot. The colour poses two interesting challenges. First, it clashes with the Red Madone, and wouldn't be that great with K1 either. I'll have to live with that.
Second, since I bought it, I'm a bit smaller, meaning it's a bit baggier, and the colour is less than red-hot masculine. I'm fine with that, ambiguity is one of my closest friends, along with spontaneous and abstract, so if it bothers you, you'll have to live with that too.
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