The good news is I have had no ill effects from my weekend amble around the blue mtb track at Ashton Court with my son. The track is really well made, a credit to whoever designed it. I think this could well become a regular weekend trip with the Young Cheddar Valley Cyclist, he definitely prefers the made tracks than cycling through Rowberrow or across the Mendips with me. He tells me that he likes the technical stuff, but I think it is more to do with the desire to know where he is, he has been walking or cycling with me too often, and heard me say "Yeah, I know where we are, we're, er , um, here, or there, I think, maybe". He thinks I should have less of a slack attitude to my navigation when I have a 12 year old in tow, which is probably fair enough.
Anyway, back to the title of this post, where the hell does all the fitness go? How come fitness takes weeks to develop, then seemingly moments to lose? I wasn't puffing and wheezing or anything, but I definitely wasn't as smooth as I would have been a few weeks ago! Lifes just not fair is it?
This Saturday will be the first time on the road for 3 weeks, so that will be interesting. Actually I am really looking forward to it, there should be quite a posse at Sweets, I am hoping to get there early, I need to make sure that they don't run out of tea-cakes like last time. Life really wasn't fair that day!
4 sleeps until Christmas!