Bike Ride

Well, today was beautiful: sunny and warm, with all the fields glowing in the light. It was perfect for a cycle, so when Fisher headed into St Andrews for a run, I took the bike. I thought I'd cycle to the Leisure Centre, then jump into the pool for some laps.

Fat chance.

It was awful. I did 8 miles in 49 minutes, which is around 6.20 mins a mile. Terrible, terrible, terrible. The wind was blowing in my face the whole way and I just found it all unbearably tedious, not to mention exhausting. When I arrived in St Andrews it was to see Fisher puffing along the path above East Sands, looking boot faced. It turns out she was having a terrible time of it, as well - and then I remembered we'd both only eaten two bits of toast all day. I really hope that makes a big difference.

Anyway, there was no way I was going to get into the pool after that debacle of knackeredness, so we went to Morrisons, got supper, and came home. Morrisons is terrible! The only thing I like about it is the fish counter. Everything else is just poor - especially the fruit and veg.

Anyway, I'm now feeling tired, grumpy, and a bit silly, too. I had my first fall today, you see - and it wasn't in any way dramatic, glamorous, or anyone else's fault. Boo. I just cycled up to the top of the rise outside our house, lost my balance, and rode into a hawthorn bush. I then fell off. I have some impressive-looking but actually superficial scratches on the back of my hand, and a tiny pinprick where a bloody great thorn impaled my finger. It bled profusely, making the bike handle all sticky and gross, but looks like nothing! Where's the justice? It's reeeeeally sore!!

*Shniffle*

Anyway, I'm all tucked up at home now, listening to Jeff Buckley as I type and getting ready for a big, deep, soaky bath before watching Spurs get trounced by Villa (doubtless).

Ooh looky. A glass. And it's half empty.

Bah.