I managed to crank the weekly distance up to just over 150km this week, and boy, am I feeling it in my legs. About 10 seconds after waking up this morning, I got the most awful calf cramp. As I lay there screaming in bed and thrashing about, I felt the spot where it had cramped - there was this huge knot of muscle sticking out the side of my leg - it was like an alien was preparing to burst forth.
It's nice to know that I have amazingly knottable muscles in my legs now, but I would prefer it if they didn't decide to burst out of my skin early on a Saturday morning.
Then the Monkey woke up and decided it was time to jump on me, and when he landed on my leg, it felt like I had been punched by Mike Tyson.
This cycling is all good fun, except that I'd be dead without having the weekend off.
Next week, I want to crack the 100 mile mark, which should be achievable (bar punctures, getting hit by a bus, lung disease and all the usual things which cut a ride short).
Getting there is simple - all I have to do is get in the saddle around 6.15am and take the long way into work, which is between 18 and 20km - and I need to do that most days next week. Even if I take the short route home, I will be doing at least 32km per day, and that will give me my 160km for the week. If I throw in a few jaunts around the longer route on the way home, I'll go way past the tonne.
The trick is to achieve the weekly target and survive the week intact. There is no point being so buggered on Friday afternoon that I'm asleep at my desk (which is what everyone else is normally doing) or being too exhausted to drag my sorry carcase out of bed in the mornings.
All things in moderation.