Today’s club run was wet. Very wet. I now look like a stoner who’s given up caring about how wasted he looks – my eyes are red and puffy after collecting three kilos of road grit.. each.

If I’d swapped out the dark lenses in my sunnies for clear I could’ve worn them AND seen where I was going. At least I had the sense (for once) to kit up in some warm gear after noting the forecast for “heavy rain” followed by “heavy rain” and then washed down with some “heavy rain”.

We (only about 7 of us? Not even “Map Man” Martin showed) ended up cutting the ride short. To be honest I don’t know where we went – there was a boat chugging along a river near the cafe, if that helps?

I spent the way back rubbing grit into my eyes, hoping not to hit anything, and watching the lightning which doesn’t appear in London very often. My legs were like lead at the end, even with the ride finishing a good 2 hours earlier than usual. I was out until 1am for Paula’s birthday at the Boathouse in Putney followed by a visit to Walkabout to see Mal’s friends Iwona and Maciek but that’s not usually an issue. Did spend an unusual amount of time in pubs on Friday but, again, not a biggie. Maybe the 10kg of extra water soaked into me did me in?

Here’s a similar report from someone with an actual grasp of the English language:

pickled-hedgehog.com – “Duckin? hell, that was wet.”

Out:

41.5k, 1:37, 26.3kph, 123/164bpm

Back:

42.1k, 1:36, 27.6kph, 136/172bpm