Every year it's the same.
After Xmas, I have such high expectations of the coming Summer and what I'm going to achieve.
Long rides with eldest son, some bike camping trips, a good selection of sportives. And what happens? One day I wake up and it's already Autumn. Like today. And what have I done? Nothing.
Already time to be thinking about arm-warmers and winter rebuilds. Damn. Next year, it'll be different.
Incidentally, in response to persistent speculation and rumour, I can confirm that I am planning to come out of retirement. Obviously, I could happily rest on a palmares that includes a couple of second places in Tuesday night crits at Crystal Palace and a 26-minute ten. But I believe the cause of slightly overweight fifty-year old cyclists needs global promotion.
Seriously. I'm OK about having the Texan back. But not, please God, ugly cheating git Floyd Landis. We've suffered enough.
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