After a top 100 worst sleeps in the history of my life, I really didn't feel I was capable of draping my corpse over a bicycle this morning. So I SMS-d Alex (who cycled from Vanderbijl to Durbs last week, and then did the Amashova):
Had a terrible sleep. Will try to ride tomorrow AM
He SMS'd back:
OK
OK? OK? I think I nodded off for a minute and when I woke up I felt different. Less of a gnawing, sick feeling of fatigue; an engine that was starting to turn.
I SMS'd:
Wait. On way.
And as is almost always the case, it was a great ride. The Jacarandas are in full bloom, and if you ride over the tubular flowers at just the right angle, they make a popping sound. Suburbia around here is really beautiful right now, and the mornings are crispy cool, rather than nippy.
There were some old geezers in the group, so I mistakenly expected an easy ride. Not so. There was quite a bit of frisky digging at one another. The amazing thing with cycling is that you can be fairly grey, but a bicycle is a tremendous equaliser. There were some very hard climbs, so quite unexpectedly, and I got my HR up to 171 which for me is a dizzy height. I usually struggle to get it beyond 165, or 169 at a stretch.
Here are this morning's stats:
Time: 1:29:16
HR: 141 ave/171 max
KCal: 1346
Ascent: 445
Temp: 12/12 ave/24 max
Alt max: 1694m
Speed Avg: 25.6km/h (68.4km/h max)
Distance: 38km
Last night I ran 20 minutes (217 KCal) whilst watching BUPA 1 mile in Newscastle on the screen, did 10 pullups and swam 500m. Weight is reasonable at 86.3kg (despite weekend feasting and a week off the bike).
As we went our separate ways I said to Alex, "When I got your SMS and you were like, 'OK' I was like: 'OK?' What does that mean? It's not OK!"
OK can mean anything you want it to.
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