Monday

Some days you're cooking, and other days, you're totally cooked. I was utterly nutted this morning - rotating the cranks at just a sedate pace was hard work. It's not like I spent the weekend on the turps or anything - it was just one of those weeks where I was run down to a bare nub by Friday night. A weekend of recovery didn't do much for me.

Dunno what happened during the day though, but I was cooking on the way home tonight - I just flew home. Riding was easy and I had power to burn. The body is a strange, strange thing.

Sunset was pretty spectacular tonight as I came home around the Bay - pity about all the bloody trees spoiling the view. You've got this smashing water vista, and the blasted council plants trees between the water and the path so the view is almost totally blocked. What's the point of laying a path around a feature with a great view if you're then going to stuff up the view?

This bloke is one of the red-light jumping breed. He jumped, or tried to jump, every single light on the way out of town. I love it when these turkeys do that - it gives me someone to chase. I stay nice and legal and give them a nice long lead, and then I chase them down like a ferret after a rabbit.

Or perhaps a buffalo chasing a turtle might be a better analogy.

The only way to cut time off your ride on my commute is to be fast and strong on the hills. Jumping red lights won't give you the sort of time gains you'll get from powering up hills faster than everyone around you. When you see a cyclist jump a red light, just think this thought: "Piss weak".

That is all.