'Training'

Lies.

As humans, we get ill from time to time.  It's not uncommon to play up a cold to justify the corresponding sick day from work.  Cyclists are a bit different.  We'll play it down so that we can get out on our bikes quicker, say we feel better when we know that we're not ready to go out and hammer the pedals.  We'll kid ourselves and others about our condition... Christ, this sounds like I'm talking about an addiction.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

I've been kidding myself for a while that I'm training, it's the buzz-word that's given to any kind of exercise these days.  I started riding my bike to lose weight, at some point that became “training”, that magic word that makes it sound like you've got a purpose.

Here's what could've happened...

I could've won.  I could've come second.  I could've come third.  I could've had a mechanical.  A bear could've eaten my homework.  The tarmac could've melted my tyres and made me into a life-size Mr.Soft.  I could've finished the race. 

None of these things did happen. 

It's my second race of the season this weekend (27th May).  It's been a long time since March when I took part in my first foray of racing during which I got well and truly humped by my rivals as I got pumped out the back of the bunch on the 2nd lap. 

The core of my attempts to get faster and closer to race-pace has been to take part in the local chain gang.  The one in Stirling is attended by a number of clubs and sponsored riders from the area, usually making for 3 or 4 groups of around 6-12 riders each.

In my mind everything was planned nicely. 

I did the club hardriders on my old bike (see picture) before building up the new beast last weekend. A lovely spin on Sunday in the unseasonably hot weather set me up for a week of sportive preparation. 

Now work and other stuff has taken away that relaxing build up and I am currently smashing my way through a Dairy Milk on the sofa after getting home late. The glass of wine has already been consumed...