I awoke this morning with a hangover and too little sleep after a late night with friends (which was worth every pain - a thoroughly enjoyable evening). I left Beth in bed until lunchtime to recover from the same, on top of all the nights she has worked. When she awoke I went out for a ride. I decided to do the Canons Ashby route because without my bike computer at least I knew the distance and its an enjoyable ride. Except it wasn't. It was hideous. The hardest ride I've done. Ever. And that includes some big mountain bike loops in the rain.
I set off in a light drizzle made worse by a cold wind and by the time I returned it was a full on storm. Another drenching and the return journey, about 40k, was into a strong headwind and biting rain. I could have cried. Its the first ride I've done that I just wanted to end. I just wanted to get off and get in a hot bath. It was made worse by a shocking choice of music on my ipod shuffle, meaning I rode up Harbury hill (as regular readers - are there any? will know, my least favourite) listening to a dreadful dirge by Gary Numan and "attacked" Avon Dasset to Lionel Ritchie. If anything is less likely to inspire you to ride 1km up a 10% gradient in the wind and rain I can't imagine it.
By the time I got home I was exhausted and despondent, really questioning for the first time whether I can do this ride. If the weather is anything like today for two weeks I think the simple answer is no. Time will tell. Today, the first doubts crept in.
Body count: 3 pigeons; 2 moles (!), 1 hedgehog, 1 rabbit, 1 ego.
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