The first 60 miler of the year for me, and boy did I feel it. Much of my ride involved adopting a zen attitude to being dropped. Box Hill I climbed alone, the opposite of a breakaway. Almost 9 minutes, passed by all sorts. The journey home was so painful I was forced to fall back, swallow my pride and accept ignominious defeat. I crawled back to Richmond alone.
This evening, I am delighted. The morning had been clear skied, cold and vivid and now packed with memory. It was amazing to ride with the boys again, and to see how strong they’re riding. But just as good is the feeling of having started at last, to have logged some miles, to be on the road to the summer with all the miles between then and now stretching ahead, and the knowledge that it all just gets better and better…
Right now, sweet sleep.
