It's taken more than a few days to get myself straightened out after Eildon. I managed the 15 mile Sunday run fine but on Monday I felt like I'd been in a fight - the way I used to feel after my first few games of a new rugby season. This enfeebled weariness meant no exercise on Monday. Instead I found myself surfing through some biking websites and I came across a few guys I used to train with who are still out there cranking through the lanes on 2 wheels. Later I came across some results from some old cyclo-cross races and recognized a few names from the fell running world. Maybe a few days on the bike might do the job.
Its always dicey going into my garage; you never know whats in there and what might drop from the ceiling or wall, but as I pushed the heavy creaking door back, deftly sidestepping old Auntie Agnes as she launched herself at me like Kato, vaulted over last years Christmas tree complete with bobbles and cut away the blanket of grey dusty cobwebs with an old broomhandle, I found the lightweight machine that would have been the envy of no one in 1993.
So the last few days have been an hours spin on 2 wheels wearing my blue bibshorts from a now defunct cycling club and some old antique fluorescent racing vest advertising a pro-team that probably didn't even exist. Considering the bikes been away all winter in the garage, it's been fine with only a little air in the tyres needed and a skoosh of oily lubricant for my joints.
Yesterday somewhere out in the rural hinterland I lost 2 plates from my shoe clip which meant that I couldn't get the leverage to pull that foot out of the pedal and I nearly came to grief at a road junction. How exciting is that...
The bike is still perfectly good for a 16 mile an hour trog and I think more of this lark will help build up the quads while giving my calves a bit of an easier time. There are also some good cycling blogs out there to discover. Change is as good as a rest.