A rather strange weekend of training to report. The forecast of bad weather had meant Myself , Lyndon and Fiona had agreed to make a call on the Saturday night to decide whether the Sunday early morning ride would happen or not. While I was at the local theatre listening to my kids' school production of We Will Rock You ( it was awesome) Lyndon and Fiona agreed that they would meet. If the weather was too bad said, Fiona ' we could go for a run instead'.
Now this was a problem for me. On saturday I started the day with a stint on the allotment and then decided to go for a 'pace' 11km in my new trainers. bad idea. Despite taping my feet I managed to pull a couple of blisters, so there was going to be no more running for me.
I got up at 6.30, had a bite to eat and noticed a few flurries of snow. By 7.00 it was really coming down. By 7.45 I phoned Lyndon to say we couldn't cyle and I couldn't run but I would meet the real Ironmen (Lyndon and Fiona) as I was already up.
By 8.50 I had got to the car, written on the winscreen, and set off.
By 8.50 I had got to the car, written on the winscreen, and set off.
By 8.55 I had managed about half a mile and decided that it was time to head home. The A246 to Guildford was pretty much impassable. Time to go home, discretion, valour and all that.
A couple of hours later, once a few Chelsea tractors had created a bit of slush, Mrs Optician Editor, my three boys and Henry( dog), headed off for some local snowy slopes. I convinced myself running up and down the hills was as good as a zone 1 bike ride. It was certainly more fun.
I ache all over today but more from impact that fatigue. Now that's what I call a weekend of training.
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