 |
| The dear old Pashley is hard work and no mistake |
On a Monday, having done the Long Slow Run on the Sunday, my only training is my 14-mile round trip to the office on The Strand. Cycling is useful cross training. It gives your running muscles a bit of a break. When my daughter borrows the white bike, I ride this baby. My eternity bike (ie given to me on the birth of my first child, 25 years ago).
It was windy and hard work on the way to work; rainy on my return. It takes me a very long time and involves one hard-work hill, Vicar's Hill. Other cyclists shoot past me but don't seem to be expending any energy. I pedal hard but can't seem to make the bike travel any appreciable distance. It's a vicious cycle. Riding a bike is supposed to strengthen your glutes, isn't it? But with my pathetic, unmuscly arse, my performance on a bike is as slow as ever. I suppose at 51 I can never hope to have the muscular lower half that makes a body good on the pedals. Yet one of my best friends, exactly my age, is pedalling up steep dirt tracks in Peru. I bet her buns are quite steel like. You can find her, Ruth, on Contours of a Country, on blogspot.
No comments:
Post a Comment