It’s going to be a bit of a tale of two halves this week. Because, just for a change, things didn’t go quite to plan. Last weekends efforts on the Beacons to the Blacks Ultra, left me pretty well broken for much of the week and despite an easy day on the Bank Holiday Monday my legs were in bits. Monday and Tuesday were a struggle to get down the stairs, let alone do anything else, although I was back on my bike for the daily commute on Tuesday, so things weren’t that bad (stairs withstanding).
By Thursday, my legs felt almost normal again and I ventured a gentle run back from work, which obviously meant running back in again on Friday morning. And whilst it wasn’t pretty, and was stupidly slow, it helped with stretching out my battered muscles again, so seemed like a reasonable idea. Leg’s pretty much back to normal, I was still tired though. In fact, I’d been feeling shattered all week, which is pretty unusual, and despite being in bed well before 10 every day in the week, come Friday I was still feeling tired. However, I had plans for the weekend, and tired or not, I wasn’t planning on putting it off, so come Friday afternoon it was all systems go for a big weekend on the bike! So, what were my plans for the weekend I can hear you all thinking? Well, how about one last Hurrah before the weather really turns, and starts making cycling less appealing, in the form of the University Challenge 600Km Audax. 600Km of cycling fun from the outskirts of London, across to Cambridge, before heading all the way over to the other side of the country to brush the edge of Wales and back again. So, what’s all the waffle about being tired go to do with things then? Well, planning on spending the weekend playing bikes I took the van up to the start on Friday night and had a good night’s sleep until the alarm went off at 04:30, for the second time in as many weekends, jolting me awake and reminding me that there was work to be done. It was another chilly but clear morning and as I made my way to the start I was in fairly good spirits. My legs felt good and with plenty of layers keeping me warm it looked like it was going to be another nice day. Getting to the start point I picked up my Brevet card and spent a few minutes sorting out kit and retying my shoelaces for the millionth time and then, as is now customary, spent a few minutes watching the seconds tick down until at 06:00 the nice man said, “Off you go then” and we all stood there looking at each other, waiting for someone else to move first. Eventually though we were off and heading smoothly through the quiet outskirts of London, heading for the first stop of the day at Cambridge. Unusually the group at the front of the pack stayed together for quite some time and we made fast progress for the first hour or so, moving steadily through the rolling countryside as we settled into a steady rhythm. 07:00 came and went and the miles rolled steadily beneath my wheels, but things just didn’t feel right, and the first nagging doubt started to creep into my mind. By the time 07:20 came along, my eye lids were sagging, and I’d started to feel increasingly tired. “Come on me” I said, this isn’t much good, I can’t realistically be this tired, I’ve only just got up! By 07:45 I was feeling really tired and struggling to stay focused, plus I was cold! The first thoughts of dropping out started to come into my mind at this point. If I was this tired and unmotivated now, how was I going to be feeling in another 24 hours? Maybe I’ll just go to Oxford and cut back onto the return route there? By 08:00, Oxford had become Cambridge. Yes, I’ll just go to Cambridge, have a late breakfast there and then head back to the start, It’ll still be a 200Km day, but I just can’t face another 30 hours in the saddle. Not today! 08:30, and I came round a corner, to be faced with a bit of a climb and just stopped at the bottom. “F**k it, I really can’t be arsed with this today, I’m so tired, and my heart and mind just aren’t in it. I’m going home”! So, I did. I turned round and headed back towards the start, giving a cheery wave to my fellow riders who were still heading outbound on my way past. Cold, dispirited, but with a great weight lifted off my shoulders. Beaten, ego bruised, but capable of fighting again another day. I’m not going to say that the ride back to the start was fun, because it wasn’t. By the time I was heading back into the outskirts of London, the traffic had picked up and the roads were getting increasingly busy. But with 70 odd miles under my wheels, I made it safely back to the van for 11:00, where I packed up, had a brew and headed for home with my tail between my legs. As I mentioned above, I was just so tired though. Tired to the point where I had to stop at the services, 10 miles from home, for a quick sleep as I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer! Getting home Saturday afternoon, a good 40 hours before I was planning too, felt like a relief. It’s pretty unusual that I ever give up, in fact this is the first cycling event that I’ve ever DNF’d (Did Not Finish) but it was without doubt the right decision. My mind just wasn’t in it. I could have pushed on, but the further I went the harder it would have been to get back, and the more miserable I would have become. If I was struggling mentally at 30 miles, what would the situation have been at 03:00 in the morning, with 300 miles in my legs and the temperature just above freezing? Not pretty would have been my guess!
So, having got myself back home and had a good nights sleep, what was I going to get up to instead. Well, for a starters, the pile of shoes in the hall has been annoying me for the entire time we've lived here, and considering that we've been here ten years that's quite a lot of annoyance.
So lets finally do something about it!
Move the shoes out of the way, cut up an expensive sheet of 19mm plywood and balance the bits precariously together to get an idea of what I'm doing.
Followed by a bit of this.
And, Ta,da! As if by magic, a few hours later, we've got one of these.
A bit of filler for the screw holes, a lick of paint and a bit of varnish for the top and I think that'll look alright. I'll update you when it's finished, but I wouldn't hold your breath. After all it took 10 years to get this far, so I suspect you'll be waiting a while!
And while were not preoccupied by running and cycling, we might as well have a bit of an allotment catch up!
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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