Pain By Numbers. 60 miles, 6000 feet of climbing, 6 hours. Aside from being unable to articulate much from the waist, and being fairly certain of violatation by the rough end of a pineapple, I am feeling remarkably sprightly.
Although, on arriving home, here are some words I didn’t want to hear “Dad, Dad, can you come and play on the trampoline with us“. Only if you want me to play dead, and I can do it while quaffing a medicinal beer.
More numbers. 9 Days, 16000 of climbing, 160 miles, 15 hours 30 in the saddle, 15,000 calories.
If anyone asks me innocently if I’d like to go for a bike ride, I shall politely shake my head before punching them repeatedly in the love plums for even suggesting such a thing.
More later if I make it through the night.
you’re like some kind of machine! chapeau!
Love plums? You’re such a child… 🙂
I was in touch with my inner child yesterday Nick I can tell you! “WANT TO GO HOME NOW, BORED, WAAAHHHH”
Jon – I am the kind of machine that is old and worn out. Whines a lot when asked to work hard, needs constant maintenance and is clearly inefficient when compared to sleek roadie machines. But otherwise, yep that’s me 🙂
In that case Al.. I shall get you the IT Crowd ‘Made In Britain’ stickers we’ve got here ;o)