Pain By Numbers. 60 miles, 6000 feet of climbing, 6 hours. Aside from being unable to articulate much from the waist, and being fairly certain of violatation by the rough end of a pineapple, I am feeling remarkably sprightly.
Although, on arriving home, here are some words I didn’t want to hear “Dad, Dad, can you come and play on the trampoline with us“. Only if you want me to play dead, and I can do it while quaffing a medicinal beer.
More numbers. 9 Days, 16000 of climbing, 160 miles, 15 hours 30 in the saddle, 15,000 calories.
If anyone asks me innocently if I’d like to go for a bike ride, I shall politely shake my head before punching them repeatedly in the love plums for even suggesting such a thing.
More later if I make it through the night.