Paying the price of good form

The midweek training bash with the ROCC started of OK, yes it was cold, at around 4 degress, but OK. We rode down through Chabanais, and enjoyed 500 metres of the awful river crossing main road, choked with logging trucks going to the paper mill along what I call ‘the road to hell’. Within a couple of minutes we’re back out of town on deserted roads. It’s cold today, and we’re pushing on to keep warm.

Training on a cold wet day
At Lesterps a light rain starts to fall, the pace picks up. With Oradour sur Glane still 25kms away the light rain becomes a steady drizzle. All banter has stopped, and we work hard together to get the job done, this is training, you can’t just go home when you feel like it.

Oradour behind us we climb towards La Barre, the roads are soaked now, and water sprays up off our wheels, my fingers are numb. The descent towards St Victurnien is a long one, by the time we re-cross the river I’m feeling cold. My hands are numb. I’m glad to be climbing again and I work hard to generate some warmth. By the time we get to Cognac le Foret I’m fine apart from my hands.

Only 10km left to do, it’s raining heavily now, we’re motoring. It’s cold, wet, and tough. As I roll into home I have over four hours on the clock. This is the price of good form. Dripping wet I strip off in the garage. A quick shower, some warm clothes, and a cup of hot tea with a dash of whisky in it.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.