It had been a long weekend of carb eating. A funeral is no place to get all egotistical about diet and so I tucked into the sandwiches, the scones, the cakes and later on the full-on curry along with everyone else. There was lots left over and so the following day was a tidy-up session with very little going to waste. And I have to say that I did enjoy the experience. It turns out that a few of the relations read this blog and so it was pleasantly hypocritical to mull over the pros and cons of LCHF while scoffing a bacon croissant at breakfast time.
Come Sunday the time for feasting had passed. Back to a normal 2-egg breakfast but I felt bloated and needed to get outside for a run. I have a minor achillies injury so a 20 minute recovery/stretching jog just didn't provide the relief I needed. Out with the road bike then, and I took off with nothing but a sip of water in the bottle and a vague idea of where to go. At 10:30 I passed a remembrance parade in Hurstpierpoint but dodged by just before the Sargent Major strode into the road to stop the traffic. I was appropriately dressed in red and black (the Aspire colours!) but I’d done enough looking back for one weekend.
I was feeling sluggish sill; but there was no hurry. I normally like the road out towards Henfield but got angred by a couple of un-explainable near-misses and I raced for a mile, regretted it, cursed a lot and wished I was on a grassy trail somewhere instead.
After an hour or so there was a chimney fire at the Crabtree Inn. I stopped to watch as 2 fire engines arrived. And then a strange thing happened. I got back on the bike and sped off up the hill, and I felt lots better. After a few more miles of sunny roads to the south of St Leonard's Forest I realised that I was flying. With no GPS reminder of how fast each mile had passed I had been unaware of getting faster and faster.
After about 90 minutes of reasonably hard work I hit “The Bliss Point”. The road was gently hilly but I was cruising well above 20 mph, enjoying the scenery and wondering why everything felt so easy. Maybe I was still burning carbs or perhaps I had reverted to fat-burning, perhaps it was a bit of both. Either way it was the most pleasant 60 minutes of riding I can remember. Even the interjection of 3 sharp hills near Ardingly did little to dent my happy mood, and 45 minutes later I arrived home thoroughly cleansed, feeling positive about life and not the least bit hungry or thirsty after nearly 40 miles of riding at what, for me at least, was a cracking speed.
Sometimes when your body and mind are have been stressed out, a long run or ride is the only thing to turn the tide.