Friday, July 22, 2005
Unfitness
Damn, I'm unfit. Unfit for exercise, that is, rather than unfit for purpose, whatever my purpose might be.
I made my mate a birthday card this morning and decided to bike it round to his place, about 1.5 miles away. It's relatively flat, except for the sharp ascent right near their house. So I managed to power my way along to this hill but cracked about half way up it. It's not a long hill, either. I crawled my way up it in a pretty low gear, dropped off the card and headed back. It was great coming back down the hill, but hitting the flat again, I realised I had expended most of the energy I left with and I trundled along the main road at not much more than 10mph. Strangely I found the long hill heading towards my road easy. Still, I still felt particularly cumbersome and pathetic as I constantly compared myself to the great Lance Armstrong, who's about to win the Tour de France. Now I'm sitting at home attempting to recover, dizzy and with flickering vision. I think I overdid it.
I made my mate a birthday card this morning and decided to bike it round to his place, about 1.5 miles away. It's relatively flat, except for the sharp ascent right near their house. So I managed to power my way along to this hill but cracked about half way up it. It's not a long hill, either. I crawled my way up it in a pretty low gear, dropped off the card and headed back. It was great coming back down the hill, but hitting the flat again, I realised I had expended most of the energy I left with and I trundled along the main road at not much more than 10mph. Strangely I found the long hill heading towards my road easy. Still, I still felt particularly cumbersome and pathetic as I constantly compared myself to the great Lance Armstrong, who's about to win the Tour de France. Now I'm sitting at home attempting to recover, dizzy and with flickering vision. I think I overdid it.
