One week on, and Richmond Park is a different place. Low winter sun in a cloudless sky; warm despite a harsh wind; relatively few cars but hundreds of cyclists. Some are clearly the advance guard of the post-January 1st resolution brigade -- some, like me, are regular riders - refugees from a Christmas spent overindulging in food and drink.
Solo or in pairs, and packs of London Dynamo -- riding "through and off" with varying degrees of precision and speed.
I'm on my first day training from "the book", and finding it hard going. It's not an easy read, especially for someone who struggled with Maths and Science at school; and it seems to assume that you have access to a sports laboratory or a power meter. Neither is true for me -- especially since most power meters cost more than my bike.
But I've adopted and adapted the central message -- go slower to ride faster; keep your heart-rate below a predetermined level to encourage long term strength and efficiency. It goes against all your natural instincts but after a while it begins to make sense. I struggle when an overweight man on a mountain-bike seems about to overtake me, and sneak briefly into the red. I'm unable to climb even Richmond Park's gentle hills without going a little over; and on the return journey on the South Circular, there are points where you have to make like Cipollini simply to survive.
I get home with a set of figures: average speed 14.5 mph, average heart-rate 125 bpm. I have no idea what they mean or how to improve them, but it's a start.
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