Good ride today -- aside from the Mercedes incident; warm, still and dry -- and my body vaguely obeying my instructions for once.
Which was a relief, because Saturday was a stinker. We were in drought-stricken Andalucia for the worst period of the British "summer", but it's still been a fairly miserable couple of months.
Saturday, though, dawned clear, cold and bright and with a definite feel of Autumn in the air -- probably my favourite time of year.
But I was pedalling squares all the way. Slow on the flats, wheezing on the hills and struggling into the wind: a bike ride is normally guaranteed to cheer me up but as the ride progressed I got steadily more crabby.
Even the sunshine in Richmond Park failed to lift the gloom and I became increasingly, irrationally irritated by, in no particular order:
- People riding Cervelos in full CSC kit
- People riding really slowly on full-aero time-trial bars
- People with v-shaped, twin water-bottle holders behind their saddles
- A really fat bloke with ultra-lightweight carbon racing wheels -- c'mon, City Boy, even you can see the inherent logical flaw there, right?
- The two oldish riders sitting outside the cafe in perfect, retro Italian jerseys -- loudly discussing the relative merits of vintage Campagnolo groupsets (although only because they reminded me of the sort of dreary misanthrope I could probably become unless I got my act together pretty quickly)
So glad that normal service was resumed today. Measured your quads yet?
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