Note to self. If you’re going to go riding first thing on a Saturday morning, then spending the night out on the “town” and going to bed rather the worse for wear at 4.00am is possibly not a good idea. Scratch that. Make that definitely not a good idea. Mind you, at least I made it, unlike last time when I totally slept through my alarm and missed doing the Burnham Run with Simon.
The alarm went off at 7.30am, which seemed only minutes after I’d gone to bed. Oh yes, that would be because it was. Coffee wasn’t so much nice as essential. I made myself eat breakfast, which frankly was a struggle, mainly so as to be able to take my painkiller, as they have to be taken with food. I was also to discover that the other downside to these painkillers is that although they work really well on the knee that, unlike ibuprofen, they don’t do a whole heap for hangover symptoms…
Of course, in order to have what passes for a hangover with me, you need to have sobered up, and without a shadow of a doubt if you’d breathalysed me this morning I’d still have been way over the limit. However, as I’ve probably said before, cycling is one of the best ways I know to get over the night before, so I gritted my teeth and made it to the Square for 9.00am where GB charmingly informed me that I looked dreadful. Charming. To be fair, and not having checked, he probably had a point *grin*.
We were 7, including a newbie, when we set off for the Gorge. Man, I must be insane. But kill or cure, right? I fell off the back of the peloton pdq, and GB dropped back to keep me company. I suggested he might like to head on up and make sure no-one got lost, whereupon he said that he was going to stay with me…before the penny dropped and it occurred to him to ask me if I’d rather he went. As I was clearly cycling along under my very own little grey cloud, this was definitely what was required – so I told him that yes, he should p*ss off, which he duly did. No offense taken I hope. I appreciated the sentiment, but my misery really does not love company *grin*. (BTW, I hope some of you are now singing the theme tune to the Flumps. And if you weren’t, I hope you are now).
I had been worried about how my knee would cope with the Gorge, and now I’ll never know whether it was hard work because of my self inflicted handicap, or the knee, or the restrictive strapping on the knee. Suffice to say that it was not my finest Gorge hour. The group waited at the top, which was nice, but they soon left me behind again. I was grateful that Kevin, due to holiday jetlag, was also not on form, so I did have some company. The rest of the pack were streets ahead – so far in fact that they took the planned route from the top down Milton Hill into Wells and up to cafe. Kevin and I just slogged into the headwind and drizzle to get straight there. Well, there didn’t seem a lot of point going down just to go back up again. I wouldn’t do that on a good day! 😉
Coffee was at the Rock Cake Cafe. That would be the Rocky Mountain Cafe as was. It’s changed, but not too drastically. More importantly cyclists are still welcome, and most importantly of all – they still serve coffee. Manna from heaven. Darn silly name though. Having been fool enough to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror there, it was obvious that even though I may well have been sweating out alcohol to get there, I clearly had a long way to go before I looked at least half human *shudder*. GB was right. So not a good look…
I ended up doing the route home, via Charterhouse and down Shipham Hill pretty much on my own as the group spread out and broke up, which was hard work. With a Rebel Yell she cried more wind, more drizzle, more slog. I’m guessing I kinda deserved it though – karma, penance, whatever – so oddly I wasn’t complaining. My knee, thanks to the strapping, didn’t exactly hurt, but it did feel weird. Weak, unreliable, and kind of queasy. I know, how can a knee be queasy? Well, it is. So there. It was just best to stick to being me doing my thing – every girl for herself. After a few failed attempts at regrouping, where I eventually met up with Steve and Mike caught us up (I could have sworn I was behind him), we finally found the others in the Square where they had courteously waited for us.
Cycling time: 2:10:58
Distance: 32.34 miles
Avs: 14.8 mph
ODO: 6195 miles
My max speed today was 37.3mph which shows that I managed to hold it together on a couple of the hills better than usual. I’m pleased to have managed something positive out of what was otherwise not one of my better rides. All things considered, I think it went quite well… It’s just that the peloton were very fast today – maybe due to our fast newbie triathlete – and I didn’t stand a snowball in hell’s chance of keeping up with them.
Ah well. “…a little bit older but not so worldly wise…”. I should so know better by now 😉
Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest… I’ve iced the knee, managed a siesta, and finally gotten my stomach settled enough to eat venison steaks, mash, cabbage, with a very lovely jus, so as to take another painkiller. Well, it seemed like a good excuse *grin*.