Thursday, 15 September 2011

It's a bit relative isn't it?

As the little count down over there says, it's about three weeks til I swing a leg over my trusty On One Scandal and attempt to ride around norfolk at night.

Hitting 24/12 I'd done no training and I backed out of my planned partnership with FKK Racing on the morning of the race (much to his disgust and my shame).  His race went on to end rather well, mine ended after a single lap and a migraine that saw me trying to escape the sun in a rapidly heating tent on what I think was the only decent saturday of the 'summer'.

Back then, I felt my fitness was lacking (and I was right) after 3 months of practically zero exercise.

Fast forward 10 weeks and mileage is coming along rather nicely, as I've previously mentioned I'm actually enjoying the road bike.  This week I've been doing two sessions a day, weights in the morning and 20 miles on the bike in the evenings.  Speed and strength is increasing and I feel quietly confident in being able to pedal a speed that isn't going to humiliate me.  I've not been training at this sort of level before and I'm only really able to do it because I'm living away from home.  Instead of normal family stuff* I'm able to get up early, exercise, go to work, leave the office, exercise again before heading home and falling in the general direction of bed. Why, then, is it that I feel guilty for having missed today?  When I asked the same question to Kate she answered simply with 'Well, you're obviously just mad'

Maybe she's got a point.

* I'd rather be doing family stuff I can assure you