After an extended break I made it out onto the trails at the weekend in the company of Dave, Jem and Neil.
It was great to be on the bike again but boy did I feel my lack of fitness. Scooting down the Landrover descent was just fine, the riding conditions being pretty ideal but after that we ambled over to Box Hill for the climb to the tea rooms.
Actually, amble was probably the wrong word. As Jem, Neil and myself headed off up the bridlepath climb everything was just fine. And then, in the way that happens when people are of a similar fitness level, we started to quietly psyche each other out to see who could edge ahead. It started pretty innoculously but gradually the chat stopped and the pain set in.
I’m gutted to say that although we all reached the top close together, I was a definite third in that battle. I came to the conclusion during the course of the climb that whatever the colour of your jersey, as a rule of thumb something is very wrong when you turn the same colour (mine’s bright orange!).
Later on in the ride I joined Dave in the jelly legs camp as well, so I definitely need to put in more miles.
I woke the next day to that familiar, odd feeling in my chest when you’ve not exercised for a while and then have worked hard and forced your lungs to expand far more than they’re used to. At least that’s what I hope caused it!