More puddles…

More puddles of sweat on the floor as Bealsey http://bespoke-velo.co.uk/ turbo-ed us through our paces in Lucy’s sitting room. It was five minutes sets, four minutes of pedalling on the large cog at 95 rpm and then one minute rest on the small cog at a slower pace. The only light relief were the Christmas songs going round in a loop on the stereo. And then the songs became part of the problem as Bealsey pointed out that I was stomping the pedals to the beat of the tunes to try to keep myself going. I tried to concentrate on sitting still and circling with my ankles but it’s really hard, and four minutes is a long time. Rachel felt a bit nauseous on about the eighth round. She’s training for a half iron man and marathon, so I think she spreads herself pretty thin. Lucy had to keep jumping off her bike to monitor her son who was climbing all over the fence trying to get something down from a tree. There was some speculation that this was an avoidance tactic; I’m sure that wasn’t fair.

We briefly planned our future meets around the holiday season and then all rushed off to our domestic challenges. In my case six children. I dropped two on the way to Kingston and then set three boys loose on the food market, while daughter and I treated ourselves to a Subway… the new McDonald’s it seems. Actually it is better than McD, but the coffee is foul.

Note to self: cards not written and half of presents still not wrapped… food?

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