Hmmm the smell of Ben-Gay.

You can tell the die hard cyclist at a glance. They are the ones who limp into work on Monday mornings, sporting a “tan” created by a combination of wind burn, and cold and are wearing a grin from ear to ear. Their legs stiff from self-abuse on the bike all in the name of fitness.

Ah the smell of Ben Gay in the morning!

That is a good description of what I’m going to look [and smell] like tomorrow. Shuffling my feet because my legs are cram-packed with goodness in the form of Lactic Acid. And I’m loving it.

Today’s forecast was so enticing I could just not restrain myself. Neither could Swinny (Dave Swindells), so we met up in Limehouse for a training ride. Today’s treat included nice clear roads so we could ride our road bikes and give the cross bikes the day off. Riding my roadie instead of the “tank” was a treat indeed. Don’t get me wrong I love my Jake the Snake but it is like driving a tractor trailer and the Kestrel is like a Maserati in comparison.

Dave and I live 9k or so from each other so we tend to ride to Limehouse from our homes and then ride out together. The wind today was from the north so it didn’t matter what direction we decided to ride in we were going to have to work. So we settled on a loop from Limehouse to Moffat (moe-fat as I like to call it), Glen Edin, Rockwood, Acton and then back to Limehouse.

When I ride with Dave I always know its going to be a good workout. Dave stands a good 6 inches taller than me and as a result is gifted with long levers for legs. His peddle stroke is akin to a graceful gazelle; whereas I’m more like a hobbit on steroids and my legs are firing madly to keep pace. It’s probably kind of comical to watch us ride by, in a twisted kind of way. Our route was a mix of rolling hills and short climbs, something I love to ride but suffer on. Dave on the other hand just floats up them. As he pointed out its all relative. So true.

By the time we rode into Rockwood my little tree stumps where feeling the burn and Dave had to slow his pace a little to let this old fart keep pace. All-in-all it was a great ride just shy of 70km. A good start to my first week cycle (last week was a recovery week for me).

Now sitting here writing I find I must have to make a big decision, call for help to get up or just roll off the chair and crawl to wherever I left those compression tights.

Hmmm decisions decisions… thud.