July 2010

[Sweder]

There has been some running in July ... but not much.
Another sweaty outing around the concrete trails of the Hawks Landing Gold Course in Orlando, a rusty jet-lagged plod on arrival home followed this past Sunday with an even rustier, more jet-lagged wobble to BlackCap with my two remaining hounds.

There's a stirring in the RC Brotherhood and that's a good thing. Too many Child's Head burgers have taken their toll, adding a layer of blubber to an already burgeoning middle. I've re-joined the spinners at Bridge's House of Fun, the second session of my come-back being this evening. Spin is great. 100% cardio workout, barely noticable impact on sore or under-used limbs. Ideal for the slobs amongst us; I'll try to get along at least twice a week to help my return to the trails.

Tonight's session kicks off with Sanctuary from the Cult and finishes with Duelling Banjos - with the class divided into two groups, cycling each other to death on our static Keisers - followed by The Chain, the Fleetwood Mac number associated with the BBC's coverage of Formula One. It ends in a thrashing crescendo and we're urged to keep pace by our manic mounted instructress. Legs and perspiration fly in an orgy of sweaty mayhem until we slump as one across our liberally doused machines. There's a satisfying pool of liquid forming beneath my bike; more lard wrung from my wobbly carcass.

It's a start.