Ninja’s rock – McLean’s Island 12hr Race

My first ever 12 hour race, and I guess my first ever “sponsored” race (and by sponsored I mean that my entry was paid for by work). I was up bright and early on Saturday morning, before 6am – horrific, packing food and making sure I had everything loaded into the van for the long day ahead. Swung by work at 7am to pick up 2 more team members and their gear and headed off to McLean’s Island, where we were meeting our final team member. With Iron Maiden and Metallica blearing from the sound system at the venue we scored a primo corner site close to the loos (very important) and in no time had a very comfortable site put together, complete with changing room, chairs, indoor hammock, comfy napping cushions, more food than you could shake a stick at, tools galore and most importantly, heaps of shade.
The team. A fantastic team it was too. Leading out (because we told him he had to) was Andy. Experienced 6 hour solo and 12 hour team racer, fresh back from completing the Whaka50 in Rotorua and IT systems genius. Bravely volunteering to go second after the cracking pace set by Andy was Liv. Elite women’s downhiller, cross country speedster and crazy, fabulous, fun chick. After a furious rock/paper/scissors battle it was deemed I would be the third rider, followed by Marty. Veteran of the CatEye Moonride in Rotorua, international jet-setter and hammock owner. Our team wasn’t out for prizes or glory, our team was there to have fun and with the help of the fantastic weather that’s exactly what we did.
The start was managed chaos and I was feeling extremely glad to be on the sidelines cheering Andy on. He blitzed the first lap and in just over 28mins Liv was out on the course. She was back only 5 secs slower than Andy and then I was off. My lungs protested as I got up to speed through the tents and took off across the field towards the stop-bank. In what was to be a theme for my day (and not really an unexpected one) people streamed past me. Sorry guys! By the time I got into the forest I’d found my legs and my lungs had settled down and I was, da-da-da-da-da loving it. All the practise had paid off as I pinned it down the stop-banks into the tight corners without braking. A big silly grin was plastered on my face as I kept pace with the fast guys who’d just passed me. Of course as soon as the swoopy sections finished they disappeared into the distance, but I was having a great time and didn’t care. Unfortunately it came unstuck when I left the forest and was on the last section of windy singletrack before the 4wd drive track slog back to the camp site. A rider called to pass and against my better judgement I moved to the left thinking he’d whip past on the little straight, but he didn’t make it past and I was forced to take the next corner wider than I’d like and my wheels disappeared from under me in the loose gravel. My left leg didn’t unclip and I had the very unpleasant sensation of the ligaments on the inside of my left leg being stretched way further than they like. It didn’t hurt at the time, but I knew things weren’t going to be good in the future. I was back on my bike straight away and pedalling furiously to keep my knee warm till I could get some Anti-flamme on it.
I trundled through the timing tent to beeps and then accelerated into the chicanes of the campsite. Our site was on corner 8 and those 7 other corners leading to it sucked. I blew into our transition area and flopped down into a chair as Marty sprinted off through the tents and out over the field. I was pretty happy with how my first lap felt, but I was under the mistaken impression that I’d done it in 45 mins (eeep!). I’d actually done it in 33.29 which was fantastic for me over the 12.5km distance. Unfortunately I hadn’t cleared my speedo after my warm up. This lead to a little confusion on the next lap I did when I arrived 10 minutes before anyone was expecting me after a fantastic feeling lap of 33.40. Marty was relaxing in a chair as I pulled in and looked pretty surprised. Ooops, my bad.
The day got warmer, the music was good and the cold chocolate milk rocked. Being on the bike felt great, but my knee was getting sorer and sorer when I was off it. Luckily my lovely hubby showed up with my knee brace and that helped a bit between laps. My third lap felt great, but I was held up a wee bit by a few people (yep, I did actually manage to pass some people!) and my time was 34.16. Still pretty damn consistent. My fourth lap was probably the windiest of the day, and didn’t feel too good and the sun was at an awful angle, but I pushed as much as I could and managed to get back in 33.53. My fifth, and what was to be my final, lap was the last lap without lights. It was pretty gloomy in the forest and I managed to past a few more people who weren’t so confident in the corners. My legs were really starting to burn in this lap and it was the first time I felt my knee hurt on the bike all day so I knew it was going to be my last. Climbing the stop bank for the last time was not fun. Especially when the guy I’d been chasing through the forest and finally caught mere minutes earlier, went past me again along to the top. I pushed for all I was worth across the paddock and back through the tents, damn it hurt, and am proud to say finished my last lap in 34.27.
So all up I did 62km, just under 3 hrs of riding and there was less than a minute’s difference between my first lap and my last lap. Yipeee. Also I managed to do a tiny huck down one of the ditches in the paddock (very important achievement). It’s the longest distance I’ve ever done competitively so I’m pretty stoked with that.
For a team that was out to have fun we did great, getting 19th out of 36 in our category, completing 23 laps and finishing in 11:45:39. It was definitely one of the most fun days I’ve had on the bike and that’s mainly due to the fantastic team I was in. Cheers guys – bring on Hanmer!
Unfortunately things weren’t boding so well for my knee. I could hardly walk by the time we’d packed everything up and getting home to discover there was no hot water didn’t aid matters at all. Luckily we had some Voltaren pills from when Pete hurt his back so I was able to get some sleep. Surprisingly the next morning my legs felt good, and my knee was much better. I’ve made a physio appointment for Wednesday to get it sorted as we’re off to Rotorua this weekend. Yeeeee-haaaaa. My legs felt tired on the ride to work this morning, but they also felt stronger. With the Molesworth now only 4 weeks away I feel like I’m in pretty good shape to finish it in under 6 hours.

Return to the Hills

It would be fair to say it’s been a decent amount of time since I last went for a ride up a hill. In fact it was back in July and it wasn’t very good. With that in mind I was pretty sure that this week’s return to Kennedy’s Bush was going to be “interesting”. I hadn’t planned going anywhere near the hills on Tuesday, but after making a deal with myself that I could have some of the extremely delicious (and healthy) Cyclops Chocolate Yoghurt if I did 2 hill repeats of the Kennedy’s Bush road I headed off. Hmmmmm. Things did not go well. Unfortunately much as I expected. My lovely road bike has 2 chain rings up front, meaning my choices for gears for hill climbing are somewhat limited. Even in the very lowest gear I’m still about 5 gears higher than I would be on my mountain bike. It was bloody hard from the word go. I quickly reassessed my goals for the ride and decided that if I could get past the stone wall ¾’s of the way to the second corner I would be happy and anything past that would be extra good. First attempt. Past the stone wall, and about 50m short of the first corner, no standing, but very sore legs and lungs. Second attempt. Crikey! Legs screaming right from the start but manage to make it to the end of the wall, but only just. So all in all, a little bit disappointing, but I still felt I’d earning my yoghurt.
The next day I rode my lovely full sus bike to work as it was heading in for a service at The Hub. They did a fantastic job on it, sorting out my rear derailleur issue and fixing my brakes. So after work Pete and I headed up Kennedy’s again. After the previous day’s effort I was keen to see how my legs would actually go on the MTB. Amazingly they went freaking brilliantly, yay legs. I got up the road in my fastest time ever and didn’t get down into the easiest gear once. The first time ever that’s happened. In fact once I hit the single track climb and then 4wd track up to the first down hill I still hadn’t got down that far and my legs were feeling really good. Fun blast down the little bit of single track, but I had a couple of guys right behind me which I found quite unnerving so not as flowing as I’d like, but it’ll come. Then back up. My legs were beginning to feel it, but it was still better than any other ride up here I’ve ever done. I didn’t quite make it to the top, Pete was freezing in the nasty easterly, so I turned round when he went past me going the other way, but I did get almost to the top and I felt really good. Back down was great. Brakes felt good and I was getting used to being back on my “real” bike. Back up my favourite bit of single track and my legs were working great. Down the techy single track by the 4wd climb and I was a nana. Sun in my eyes, track full of ruts and nasty (fun) wee drop offs (I’m sure Pete didn’t even notice them) and I was taking it easy. Fantastic fun though. Blasted down the last swoopy section and lifted my bike onto the cattle stop to head down the Croc for the first time. It was exciting. Lots of work has been done to smooth it out after winter, but it’s still rougher than I’ve ever ridden it before and the sun was in the worst possible place meaning in some place sI couldn’t see anything. After the first couple of switchbacks I remembered how to ride them and found my flow. I managed to avoid the first gapping chasm I came to and stay on the bike, but I had to walk round the second one. I couldn’t see the bottom and the hole was large enough to completely swallow a wheel. As usual I wussed out on the rocky bit. I’m going to have to bring my pads up one day and session it till I can get it. Bloody thing scares me silly. I was happy that I managed to ride all the switchbacks, including the 2nd to last one where the track has been narrowed significantly on the exit and it would be all too easy to head down the bank. The climb out of the valley is just silly hard at the moment and even pushing up wasn’t that easy.
It was a fantastic ride and made me feel a lot more confident about the Molesworth. Which is lucky as Pete and I have entered the Moa Beer Moa Hunt in Kekerengu, just north of Kaikoura on the 29th of November. The fantastic news about that is Pete won the early bird prize of a case of Moa Beer, a case of Allan Scott wine (mmmmmmm) and a free entry to the Rainbow Rage. The bad news is the profile for the race. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

Feeling Daunted

Slowly but surely I feel like my legs are coming back to me. After finishing my course of steroids my energy took a wee nose dive, but I was feeling back to normal pretty much the next day. My legs were feeling all good but my lungs are well and truly far from 100% and hammering the shit out of them on Thursday after work probably didn’t help matters.

I had a couple of really good road rides at lunchtime last week, although one of them resulted in me getting pelted with nice big bits of hail for 5 minutes, and I even managed to get back to the gym once during the week. Not so good at the gym. Very weak and feeble still and left feeling quite light headed. Will try and get another work out in this week and see if I’m feeling any better. Thursday afternoon I finished work early and headed to McLean’s to see how fast I could do a lap in. Ouch. Sprinted my lungs out and managed to do the 10kms in 28.29mins. Yay. I was happy with the time, but I paid for it big time. My lungs felt shredded and I crawled round the first half of my second lap like a cripple.

On Saturday I went out to McLean’s again to see how my endurance is going. My plan was to do about 3 hours and hopefully 6 laps. I knew I’d be hungry as when I got back from this so I put a nice big roast in the oven and set the timer before I left. Unfortunately the best laid plans, as they say. First lap felt fantastic. I nailed all the fast corners down off the stop banks and had great flow which meant no braking, yay. Got round in just over 30 mins but didn’t feel like I was pushing so that was great. Second lap and I was feeling even better now that my lungs had warmed up and I’d got my lines sorted the previous lap. I felt like I was flying, but didn’t feel like I pushing at all. Then things went a bit wrong. About 2 kms from the end of my second lap my back end went all wiggly. I knew that feeling, flat tyre. I still had a fair amount of air in the back wheel, I knew I had a couple of spare tubes and my pump with me so at the next junction I pulled over and flipped my bike over to do a quick tube change. HA!, as it turned out. Plenty of lovely people offered me help, but I didn’t think I needed it. After persisting with my pump for 30 minutes (30 incredibly frustrating minutes which left me in a bit of a strop) I finally gave up, put my wheel back on my bike and started walking back to the start along the walking track. It turns out its best not to take that fact that your pump works for granted when you haven’t used it for months and months. 30 sandblasted, cursing, and grumpy, minutes later I was back at the wee shop by the carpark borrowing the shop pump and inflating my tyre in about a minute flat. Unfortunately it was only a minipump so I couldn’t get enough pressure in my tyre to make it bead properly, but beggars can’t be choosers. The lovely man in the shop said I could take his pump with me to do a couple more laps.

I’d lost an hour and had to be home before 3 as we had people coming from dinner so I headed out to do 2 more laps in the hour I had left. With my back wheel feeling a bit wobbly I wasn’t flying down the stop banks anymore because I didn’t have much faith in the back wheel to not let go at a crucial moment. I ground out 2 more laps and will freely admit that the last one hurt. Quite a lot. Worrying.

I say worrying because that morning my lovely husband downloaded the Google Earth map of the Molesworth course http://www.bluedogevents.co.nz/document.aspx?id=433. This picture does not do it justice. It looked like a really loooooong way. With the race now only 4 (eeek) weekends away I’m beginning to feel quite worried about doing 80kms on my MTB. And spending 5 or 6 hours on my bike is really scary unknown territory. I know I’ve done a lot of training for this, but its getting really close now and I’m going to have start having some really big rides and start working the hills, but I just don’t know if my lungs are going to cope.
This coming weekend is the 12 hr race so that will give me 3 hours of split shift riding, hopefully that will help. And then the following weekend we’re off to Rotorua for 2 weekends so I’m sure I’ll clock up so big hours while we’re there. I just hope it’ll all be enough. Gulp.

On the Mend

What a difference a week makes. I took 2 days off at the start of last week and made a doctor’s appointment as I was still feeling completely smashed. While the 2 days of doing nothing were very enjoyable I didn’t feel any better, so off to my wonderful doctor I trotted (well I actually drove there because I was feeling so rubbish). It would be fair to say that I haven’t really ever liked going to the doctor and have in the past gone out of my way to avoid a visit. I feel quite different now that I’ve finally got a fantastic doctor who I can talk to, listens to what I say and doesn’t just prescribe me drugs. Just to contradict my last sentence this visit was all about the drugs. After explaining how crap I’ve been feeling and how long it’s been since I felt good we agreed that a 5 day course of steroids would probably be the best bet. I was at the point now where I was actually looking forward to taking anything, if it would help. That was Wednesday. Thursday and Friday I biked to work and was feeling a little better. Friday night Pete and I went nightriding at the sandpit and amazingly enough I made it all the way round without feeling too bad.
On Saturday I was feeling quite a lot better and decided to head out to McLean’s for a spot of practise for the 12 hour race in a couple of weeks. I wasn’t really sure how I’d go so I planned on doing a minimum of 2 laps with a max goal of 4. I also wanted to try and keep my lap times to about 30mins for the 10km loop, but I wasn’t sure if that would actually be possible. Off I went, not setting a blistering pace, just easing into it and enjoying the forest and being on my good bike after so long. It was fantastic. After about 15mins I felt nicely warmed up and my chest and legs felt really good. I did the first lap in 30 mins and didn’t really feel like I was pushing so I headed straight back into the forest for another loop. This also felt really good, although by the end of it I was a bit peckish and had run out of water. I made a brief muesli bar and water stop and headed back into the forest. I was amazed how good I still felt. About three quarters of the way round this lap the southerly front hit and it hit hard. The temperature plummeted and it started spitting. I was not prepared for this weather so it put the kye-bosh on my plans for a 4th lap. Feeling very hungry and very happy I headed into town for some lunch. This ride has really perked me up and given me back my confidence for the 12 hour race. I’m in a 4 person team with some guys from work called the NIWA Ninja’s of the Apocalypse. It should be a great laugh.
Sunday was a gorgeous sunny day and Pete and I headed to the sandpit. I was interested to see how I would go after doing 30kms the previous day and was pleasantly surprised that my lovely singlespeed didn’t hurt me at all. In fact I actually managed to do 2 laps in a row and felt I could have done three. Yes!!! Finally.
Admittedly I’m feeling a little flat today. I had a good roadie ride in over the wee hills this morning, no chest pain, but the gym has left me feeling a wee bit drained. I just had a gentle weights workout and did lots of stretching. My trainer was glad I was back and is the only person all week to ask me about my lovely bruise from the race. Hehe, people are funny.
So day light savings has started and my motivation is back. Bring on the sun, bring on the riding and in the not to distant future, bring on the hill training (aargggh, hills).

Learning lessons

It’s been a while between posts and yet again that’s because of my health. I’m really struggling to shake of this virus and its meaning I’m not really able to ride. My lungs are really clogged up and I’ve got an extremely nasty cough. To add to this work has been insanely busy and stressful and my sleep pattern is completely buggered. So I’ve been off the bike and haven’t been back to the gym. I’ve made an appointment to see my doctor later in the week, so hopefully we can come up with a plan.

I have taken some very wise advice and am resting up as much as I can, including having today and tomorrow off work. Such luxury. I’ve also had an extremely relaxing weekend. On Saturday my lovely husband and I went to the art gallery to see and participate in Scape. We spent the morning riding round the city centre on very cool

bikes. I loved it, but then I am a bit of an exhibitionist so really didn’t mind all the staring. Not so good for hubby, but he’s so wonderful that he put up with it. It was a gorgeous sunny day and was just the kind of thing I needed. I spent the rest of the afternoon upstairs in the sun snoozing.

Sunday I was a bit naughty. Pete and I had entered the Cheviot Hills Challenge a month ago and I really didn’t want to pull out because they might not run it again as it was a test run this year. I’d managed to change to the Recreational grade, so I only had 2 laps of the 7kms course to do. I’d also managed to talk a fellow Vorbette, scatter, into pootling along with me. Not that it really took any persuading at all. It was a gorgeous day and it turns out the course was fantastic. I definitely made the right choice being in Rec as there were plenty of technical hill climbs for my lungs to protest at, but it was wonderful. I’ll admit that at the end of the first lap I was feeling pretty bad and if scatter hadn’t been there I might have pulled the pin and finished right there. I didn’t though. Partly because I couldn’t stand the thought of not finishing something I’d started and secondly because the course was so much fun.

A lap consisted of a short ride up a gentle gravel road, slaloming between huge puddles, then right into the first climb up some slightly overgrown double track. This popped us out onto a fence-line single track with a blast down a paddock, a sharp right and a further blast across the front of hill on off-camber double track. Down the road for a short bit, up a very wet grassed field and back into the single track, climbing up through the trees. A very fast downhill down the other side, then back up through the trees up the steepest climb (I really struggled with my lungs on this one, even walking it was difficult to breath). Then a very cool narrow rooty technical descent into a really tight right hander, up a wee bit more and then a blast down out the trees and onto the access road. Out on the bridge on SH1 and then down a cool wee drop-off and out on to paddocks. Wet paddocks covered in long grass. These were the worst part of the race, it felt like climbing it was so hard to ride in and seemed to suck all the energy out of my legs. After surviving the death paddocks we whipped round the edge of the road, over another bridge and onto a lovely windy gravelled path with a great downish incline. Blasted down the path, a wee bit more single track through forest, up the other access road and that was a lap.

I did a bit of walking on the first lap. I had a wee voice in the back of my head reminding me not to break myself, to take it easy and look after my lungs. I probably rode 50-60% of the climbing though and I know I could have ridden it all if I was healthy. The descending was fantastic on the first lap. The course hadn’t be ripped up much by the Expert and Sport riders ahead of us, so there was plenty of grip and I loved the challenge of the narrow, rooty stuff. The second lap was a bit of a different story. I’m well aware my tires are not good in the mud (read: deadly), however I haven’t sorted myself out some good wet tyres and I really didn’t expect the course to be as wet as it was. So by the second lap the course and particularly the really tech rooty narrow downhill was getting quite slippy. Unfortunately I didn’t realise this until it was too late.

I was about halfway down the descent and remember briefly thinking “I wonder if that fence is electric?” when my front wheel let go on a root and I slid into the fence. I quickly discovered a large number of things in a very short space of time.

1. The fence was not electric (phew)

2. There were 2 guys right behind me that I didn’t know about. I discovered them when one of them fell into me.

3. Some how I’d managed to catch the top knuckle of my ring finger between my grip and the top wire of the fence and then fall onto the fence and get the wire caught underneath my brake lever.

4. I couldn’t get off the fence.

5. I couldn’t get my finger out from under the wire

6. Slowing having No. 8 wire working its way deeper and deeper into your finger hurts like hell and is quite scary.

The two guys behind me continued on and I struggle to save my finger. Luckily a marshall came to my rescue and untangled me. I had a black line across my knuckle and it hurt like hell, but I was ok. The marshall suggested I walk the rest of the descent and although I really didn’t want to, it was fun, I saw sense (and mud) and stumbled the rest of the way down. At the bottom I got back on and decided that if I did a bit of climbing up the next bit it would make my circulation work and take my mind of my throbbing finger. It worked a treat and by the next downhill I was flying along and actually feeling better than I had the whole race. scatter was long gone, I had been married to the fence for a few minutes after all, so I decided that I would actually try and ride the rest of the lap with some semblance of speed. I struggled through the death paddock, but the rest of the ride was good and I even managed to catch the other Rec women who I’d be duelling with up and down the hills till my tumble. My lovely husband passed me on his last sport lap with 200ms to go so that was cool. And having the loud cheering of scatter at the end was brilliant. All in all, a fantastic race.

Lessons I’ve learnt from it. Technical climbing is way more fun than slogging up a 4wd track. Having someone you know to race with is brilliant and makes an already enjoyable experience even more fun. Racing is still fun, even when you can’t go hard out. Having tyres that work in the wet is a good idea. And finally falling into a 6 line wire fences hurts more than falling into bushes, tussock, trees, gorse, dirt, mud and only slightly less than falling on pointy rocks. Once the race was over I discovered the array of fence marks on the left side of my body. The one halfway up my upper arm is doing a good impression of an armband tattoo, but in red and green, so at least I now know how I’d look with one of those!

It’s a lovely sunny day today and all I want to do is ride my bike. I’m really missing riding, but in the interests of my health I’m going to clean my bikes in the sun and read books instead. Most importantly lesson: listen to your body.

Legs of damp string

My training is taking a bit of a hammering with this darn cold. Saturday we headed out to the sandpit. I got Betty's bars cut down last week and so keen to try out her handling skillz now. It was so exciting to be back on a bike. We got to the sandpit and I ripped off into the forest at top speed. It felt so good flying between the trees. The narrower bars felt heaps better and I was hitting the corners hard and fast. Sweet. For the first 10 minutes. Then my body realised what I was doing to it. By the end of the first shot section I was ready to vomit or pass out or both. Man my lungs hurt. Silly girl. I shouldn't have gone out so hard. Needless to say the rest of the ride was more of a cruise than a blast. But crikey it was still fun. Especially when we stopped in the middle so I could practise jumping on a wee jump. Weeeeee.

Special! I had a wee play on the skinnies before we left and all in all it was a pretty good ride. Considering my body obviously isn't recovered from the virus of doom.
Later that day I went out Kaiapoi to visit my lovely friend Nici and her beautiful wee daughter. I've been painting them a painting for the nursery for about 8 months and I finished it a couple of weeks ago, finally. Biking seems to get in the way of my artistic endeavours. I'm pretty happy with it and I'm now starting a new one for other friends. Hopefully it won't take so long!I rode to work in the cold today. Man, my legs are gone. Horrid head wind on the way to work, but I still decided that I should go for a ride at lunchtime. Painful, slow, weak, string legs. Not good. I'm hoping my legs come back soon as Pete and I are racing in a fortnight and I'll need to be a lot fitter feeling than I am now.

Return of the Living Dead

Gah!!!! My smugness at my lack of winter illnesses has finally caught up with me and I’ve been well and truly kicked in the bum with the nasty virus that’s been doing the rounds. I’m feeling really frustrated by just how sick I’ve been because I really want to be out on my bike and building up to some decent long rides this month.

The week before last was a good riding week, although I think the signs of my impending illness might have been there now that I look back on it. I did some really nice long-way-to-work rides and even got to the gym three times (I love my new weights programme, but I might have said that already). On Wednesday Pete and I headed out to McLeans for another blast and it was bloody awful. Wednesday was very very cold in the evening, I think it must have been close to 0 and I just couldn’t warm up. I felt flat and cold and exhausted for the whole lap, not good, and maybe I should have listened to my body and taken it easy from then. I felt fine on Thursday and Friday, and felt fantastic on Saturday so we headed to the sandpit for a blast. I love Bottlelake on my singlespeed. I managed to get round the whole inner loop much faster than last time and although knackered at the end I felt that my fitness had really improved. Sunday was a different kettle of fish altogether.

I woke up in the morning and it felt like someone had been pumping phlegm into my lungs overnight. They felt awful. I didn’t feel sick or anything though so I just went and had a bit of a cough to get rid of some of the phlegm. I suspect that might have been my biggest mistake. My throat really hurt after this, but I was still planning on heading out on the roadie for a couple of hours later in the morning. I lazed around in bed for a while and my throat got progressively sorer. Eventually I managed to haul myself into my riding gear and make some breakfast, but I started to feel pretty rough and decided that a couple of hours on the bike in the rain might not be the best thing for me. Probably the best decision I’ve made in a while. Pete was out at his mum’s and by the time he got home I’d pretty much lost my voice and it was completely gone by 3 in the afternoon. And it all went down hill from there. I woke up on Monday still with no voice, but now also weak as a baby, with a headache, hacking cough, and wheezy chest. I couldn’t get a doctor’s appointment because apparently everyone was sick (I spoke to a nurse and she said they’d done 20 strep tests that morning and it was only 10am). I spent the day in bed on Monday, barely able to get the kitchen to heat soup up. I went to the docs on Tuesday morning and my throat had stopped hurting so badly, but I had a fever now and my cough was worse. The bloody thing had started to move to my head also. Vaguely reassured that I didn’t have the flu or strep I went home and collapsed back into bed, again pretty much unable to move. Wednesday I was able to make it to the couch, but unable to do much else. Thursday I was starting to feel better and seemed to be able to walk to the kitchen and back without feeling faint. On Friday I woke up feeling further improved so decided that I’d better go to work as there’s so much to do. I pretty much realised this was a mistake about half way to work when I was feeling light headed just driving. By the time I got into my office my fever had cranked up again and I was feeling pretty bad. I managed to get through all my emails and voicemails by 11 and went back home to lie on the couch for the rest of the day. Saturday was similar. Yesterday I managed to walk around town for an hour without my fever going up, but still felt quite wasted by the time I got home. Today I’m feeling better, still really tired and run down, but not so congested and sick feeling. Plus I seem to be surviving being at work, so that’s a good sign.

Luckily for me it’s blood orange season. I love blood oranges, they taste so much better than normal oranges and have lots of good anti-oxidants and vitamin C and stuff. Being sick meant I could justify the expense of getting these instead of their cheaper, more boring kin. So I’ve been ploughing my way through 3 or 4 of these a day. Yum. Unluckily for me the weather over the weekend and today has been fantastic and I’m feeling very grumpy on all the missed riding opportunities. I’m going to ride to work tomorrow so that will be interesting. Hopefully by the weekend I’ll be ready to hit the forest again. I’ve found a race in Cheviot on the 21st of September that looks really fun so I need to get some riding in before that!