Daisy Daisy
I'm giggling to myself. Have a look at my latest profile photo on the top right. You know, my mug shot... which is a shot of my mug. Look like Donald Trump don't I :-)
Anyway, some good news to start off with.
Firstly the ultrasound was all clear and whilst I still have the finger of fudge in my pencil sharpener episode to look forward to I'm feeling less stressed. It's likely that Bee and Hairy are causing problems with the drainage since getting down and dirty with each other. Bee's no Brooks for sure but letchery defo runs in that family, the dirty little bugger. Balloon dog is feeling a bit better and the nut allergy has cleared up so, as the thoughtful Howard penses, I'm ultrasound perhaps?
I am now starting to do big miles on the bike. Earlier this month was regular 30 milers. Last week / this week I am back up into the over 50 club and back into the hills. Last week included a run through Leavening and up the category 4 climb to Thixendale atop the Yorkshire Wolds. This is serious hill climb country and according to Strava (an on line cycle tracking application) I did the Leavening hill climb at an average of 3.5 MPH which I thought was rather good going for a 1:7 hill by this particular fat man. Bit of a downer though to see on the Strava comparison boards that the record is just short of 17 MPH by some professional racing type snake. Bum! Bet it would slow the skinny fecking ssssnake down with another 10 stone on his shoulders! Nonetheless, it was a beautiful day and a slow ride though Thixendale was fantastic.
The day after I went out for a short 20 miler to check out the legs. The soreness which had been with me overnight was gone within 2 miles. Legs felt stronger. Not massively different, but as HAL from 2001 A Space Odyssey may have said [if he had legs... and a bike...], 'I can feel it, Dave...'
There has been a step change in the weather too. The core indicator is that once deserted lanes are now crawling with newly hatched racing snakes. Hundreds of the slimy feckers! All of them have been brought up on an alcohol rich diet riding on the London Underground cos all of them are ignorant bar stewards who never utter any pleasantries in retort to well wishes from other cyclists (me) on the same route.
Last year the most noticeable thing at this time of the year was the change from the turgid smells of wet mud to that of bright air, fragrant with the odours of newly flowering rape seed. A couple of weeks ago as though a switch had been flicked, the grey country lanes previously devoid of sounds other than the scrunch of my tyres on wet gravelly roads suddenly burst into colourful bird song. Loud stuff. Competitive stuff. What a difference that makes. Forget wearing earphones and listening to fake music, there's a cacophony of the proper stuff all around us.
I'm singing as I cycle along..
Well it is, it's currently carting 20 fecking gigatons (stones) of blubber around North Yorkshire. God, stood up in the pedals on short hillclimbs I do make it click, groan and moan!
Today has been another 50 plus miler with a northern loop out up to Richard the Turds old ruined castle at Sheriff Hutton which should have been turned into a car park a long time back. Then west, skirting the bottom of the Howardian Hillocks and across to Easingwold via Brandsby (avoiding the bank). Finally a 20 mile run south back to York. Twas hard work today riding out into the hills into a slight northerly headwind. The legs felt tired. Dead tired and in need of a seance to bring them back to life.
Oh dear, tomato omelettes for breakfast have zero carbohydrates. Duh! Must learn. Muscles need fuel to work. Chicken Sarnies for lunch along with a rather nice piece if orange cake at the Tee Hee cafe in Easingwold meant that the inbound miles to York were on average 5mph faster than the outbound stuff even though the to look forward to tailwind, like my legs, had died earlier in the day.
A big bowl of pasta for tea has been demolished along with 2 pints of Yorkshire tea. If all is good tomorrow I'll do another short run out to work the stiffness out of the ageing joints.
Only 8 weeks to go. I need to up the miles and start to carry luggage again. One sixth of a ton, of bike and luggage and with me on > 1:7 hills? I'll be setting new records. I'll be the slowest ever.
Keep it low and slow, Wayne. Don't rush. We'll all eventually get there! :-)
Ciao
Anyway, some good news to start off with.
Firstly the ultrasound was all clear and whilst I still have the finger of fudge in my pencil sharpener episode to look forward to I'm feeling less stressed. It's likely that Bee and Hairy are causing problems with the drainage since getting down and dirty with each other. Bee's no Brooks for sure but letchery defo runs in that family, the dirty little bugger. Balloon dog is feeling a bit better and the nut allergy has cleared up so, as the thoughtful Howard penses, I'm ultrasound perhaps?
I am now starting to do big miles on the bike. Earlier this month was regular 30 milers. Last week / this week I am back up into the over 50 club and back into the hills. Last week included a run through Leavening and up the category 4 climb to Thixendale atop the Yorkshire Wolds. This is serious hill climb country and according to Strava (an on line cycle tracking application) I did the Leavening hill climb at an average of 3.5 MPH which I thought was rather good going for a 1:7 hill by this particular fat man. Bit of a downer though to see on the Strava comparison boards that the record is just short of 17 MPH by some professional racing type snake. Bum! Bet it would slow the skinny fecking ssssnake down with another 10 stone on his shoulders! Nonetheless, it was a beautiful day and a slow ride though Thixendale was fantastic.
The day after I went out for a short 20 miler to check out the legs. The soreness which had been with me overnight was gone within 2 miles. Legs felt stronger. Not massively different, but as HAL from 2001 A Space Odyssey may have said [if he had legs... and a bike...], 'I can feel it, Dave...'
There has been a step change in the weather too. The core indicator is that once deserted lanes are now crawling with newly hatched racing snakes. Hundreds of the slimy feckers! All of them have been brought up on an alcohol rich diet riding on the London Underground cos all of them are ignorant bar stewards who never utter any pleasantries in retort to well wishes from other cyclists (me) on the same route.
Last year the most noticeable thing at this time of the year was the change from the turgid smells of wet mud to that of bright air, fragrant with the odours of newly flowering rape seed. A couple of weeks ago as though a switch had been flicked, the grey country lanes previously devoid of sounds other than the scrunch of my tyres on wet gravelly roads suddenly burst into colourful bird song. Loud stuff. Competitive stuff. What a difference that makes. Forget wearing earphones and listening to fake music, there's a cacophony of the proper stuff all around us.
I'm singing as I cycle along..
'Rape Seed Rape Seed give me your answer do.
I'm half crazy because of the things I do
I don't have a stylish carriage
I can't afford e-bike'age
But you'd look sweet upon the seat
Of my bicycle, it's made for two!
Well it is, it's currently carting 20 fecking gigatons (stones) of blubber around North Yorkshire. God, stood up in the pedals on short hillclimbs I do make it click, groan and moan!
Today has been another 50 plus miler with a northern loop out up to Richard the Turds old ruined castle at Sheriff Hutton which should have been turned into a car park a long time back. Then west, skirting the bottom of the Howardian Hillocks and across to Easingwold via Brandsby (avoiding the bank). Finally a 20 mile run south back to York. Twas hard work today riding out into the hills into a slight northerly headwind. The legs felt tired. Dead tired and in need of a seance to bring them back to life.
Oh dear, tomato omelettes for breakfast have zero carbohydrates. Duh! Must learn. Muscles need fuel to work. Chicken Sarnies for lunch along with a rather nice piece if orange cake at the Tee Hee cafe in Easingwold meant that the inbound miles to York were on average 5mph faster than the outbound stuff even though the to look forward to tailwind, like my legs, had died earlier in the day.
A big bowl of pasta for tea has been demolished along with 2 pints of Yorkshire tea. If all is good tomorrow I'll do another short run out to work the stiffness out of the ageing joints.
Only 8 weeks to go. I need to up the miles and start to carry luggage again. One sixth of a ton, of bike and luggage and with me on > 1:7 hills? I'll be setting new records. I'll be the slowest ever.
Keep it low and slow, Wayne. Don't rush. We'll all eventually get there! :-)
Ciao
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