I went backwards this week - 141km instead of 142. I thought I might have been able to crack 150, but took the short way home today and lost about 10km. Ah well, there is always next week. Gotta have goals to aim for.
I'd like to hit the ton soon - 100 miles, or 160km. It doesn't seem that much of a stretch, except that coming home last Friday, my legs just died about 2 km from home. I was feeling a bit sore, and then they just flopped on me. I thought I'd either have to climb off and have a breather, or get a lift home. It was not a good feeling. I guess I had pushed the poor old pins about as far as they wanted to go that week.
So this week, I was a bit more cautious and didn't want to push the mileage too hard. All I really wanted to do was make 140 again, with 150 being the icing on the cake.
I did start to drag a few times, but there was always an idiot around when I needed one. I've discovered that dickheads really get me fired up - they're great for incentivising the blood stream. I was feeling a bit haggard the other night as I approached home and a tool went past in his car, and that was it - the race was on. Of course I had no hope in hell of catching him and smashing his tail lights with my bike pump, but the sudden burst of energy was just what I needed.
It helped again today, when I had an ambulance of all things on my tail. Well, not an ambulance - a "patient transport vehicle". The guy was getting up my date a bit as I came around the Bay, so I gave it what-for as soon as I got off the road and onto the bike path. The weather was good, the tailwind was slight, and he was stuck with a 50km/h speed limit. He didn't overtake me. I got the feeling the driver decided to stay beside me just to see if I could drag him off all the way around that bit of the Bay. Well, I won. Ha ha.
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