Seriously, how good is rolling out along low traffic roads and only needing to unclip for voluntary stops. OR grinding up Mitchell’s with the sun on the cliff faces. OR trotting though the bush along the escarpment above Glenbrook. OR finishing up with the fam and friends for a nana-natter in the café afterwards.
Simple days to be treasured - and a spazzed-out back represents only a very minor fee to paid for the creation of some very nice head space.
But Saturday’s 75ish/5ish brick did my back no favours at all, and I have been a complete googly for the three days subsequent.
I snuck off to see the work experience kiddie masquerading as a doctor to obtain some assurance that there was no serious skeletal stuff going on before letting Brett off the chain tonight. X-rays revealed a surprisingly healthy back, with no osteoporosis no calcification, and good spacing still between the vertebrae. A welcome surprise, and maybe some advertisement for this weight bearing exercise thing we do. All soft tissue damage – can manage that with drugs and massage.
The culprit appears to have been my time trial session of last week. Further proof, as if any was required, that I’ve been rooted by Bubba.
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