I awoke pretty much bang on 7am, and after rising I looked out of the window and saw that the ground was wet. Boo.
However, by the time I’d made a coffee, had my toast, and watched a bit of pointless YouTube, I found the ground was drying up. Or at least the back garden was certainly looking drier.
Suited up, I went out and … oh, it was actually still pretty wet out the front. Probably should have checked that first.
And then when I set off, the wind was wild. Perhaps it had been the heavy gusts that had dried the back garden and not the sun, as I had, rather naively, presumed.
Almost immediately after setting off I realised I wasn’t really in the mood.
But no matter, right?
Sunday funday. Do what you want day.
Only I’ve been out twice already this week, and today didn’t feel like a change from the turbo. If anything it felt like an absolute slog.
Essentially then, after pootling around a bit, I gave up around the 23km mark. I’d done an hour but it hadn’t been much fun, nor productive. All it had done was give me a filthy bike and mud splattered legs and clothing.
Oh well, overall not a bad week, but today’s ride was nothing to write home about.
On we go into a new week, and a new month. You would never know it was August to look outside, yet somehow July has absolutely zipped by. Heck, I’m not joking I’ve literally just seen my first Christmas advert for 2023, courtesy of the Royal Mail.
Madness.
