I suppose I could learn to live with it if it makes him feel better.
On Friday evening, we were both pooped but noticing how close the Ben Race was getting. The mist had closed in and there was a fine, warm drizzle. With a big effort, he decided to cycle to his parents, 12 miles up the road, to borrow their camper van for a trip he was planning this weekend. I forced my weary ass away from the tempting bottle of wine and got my running shoes on. There is now 4 weeks until the race.
The hillside was alive with runners honing their finely tuned skills as I peched my way upwards. I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would and definately had a more spritely down hill style than ever before. I put this down to last weeks cycling where I just let the bike ride down the grooved single track and sat on it, as it did what it was designed to do. (Too knackered to do anything else.) My feet are not exactly designed like a mountain goat, but my shoes cost £70, so I put them into action and practised looking slightly further ahead, rather than at my feet. I took 3 minutes of my last half Ben time on the descent, so I feel much better about that. And after 5 hrs on a tough bike ride and a party at the end, I reckon 3hrs 15mins of maximum allowed time for the Ben Race, should leave me heaps of energy for a big night out on the 4th September. Easy peasy.
Today Spook headed off to take part in a wee tri (run, kayak, bike) in Cairngorm, followed by a night of tapas and red wine with Uncle D in the camper van at Perth ahead of the Scottish Cross Country Mountain Bike Round tomorrow. Wee Tri was amazing and highly recommended. Hopefully he will supply photo's on his return.
Glass of red wine in hand and cosied up with les enfants, I can only hope he is addressing his hairy issues.
No comments:
Post a Comment