Back in the saddle (actually)

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Turbo trainer in the conservatory with olive trees, over-wintering geraniums and hyacinths that, yet again, I have completely failed to get to flower for Christmas

In the twinkling of nearly six weeks since falling off, I got back in the saddle this evening, if only on the turbo trainer.

With the sciatica gone (I hope never to return), if the weather had been better I’d have been on the club ride last Saturday and led the ride the week before but, happily, both were cancelled and only the hardiest souls went out.

I’m not sure what I’ve been doing while I’ve been off exercise – but the scales suggest that, mostly, I’ve been eating. If I’m planning to do stupid cycling up hills I hope to be under 65kg (143lbs) and otherwise about 67kg (148lbs).

Apparently, hope is not a good weight control mechanism. I now appear to be nearly 71kg (156lbs), thanks to some very good dinner and drinks parties recently, coupled with a general lack of self control and moderation. Not a disaster at about 5ft 10in but certainly more than I’d like with Christmas excesses to come.

One thing I have been doing is reading some more great cycle travel blogs (including Sharron Yaxley’s, Alex Mason’s, TaityRay, Josh Day and veloelle). I’m getting a bit apprehensive about the plan to  cycle out to the alps this summer but I’m determined to follow in such excellent footsteps (tyre-tracks).

 

Back to the turbo – it’s rudimentary, no adjustability other than through the bike’s gears. When I bought it I was following advice to spend the least possible on my first turbo on the basis that a very significant percentage of people simply don’t get on with them and use them fewer than 6 times. Happily, with the leaves off the neighbouring Chestnut tree I can now get TV reception in the conservatory.

My session consisted of a few minutes warming up through a couple of gears followed by an hour of pushing the biggest gear (52/12, I think) before short cool down. I treated myself to no sprint intervals (normally I’d do 4 in an hour’s session). When I say sprint, it’s a relative thing at best – I must have been off sick when they handed out fast twitch muscle fibres.

Although I was breathing fairly hard worryingly quickly, I was happy to get through it OK – and that is good enough for me at this stage.

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