This Viking Life

We worked hard tonight. The best way to start the week. Sorry legs, tomorrow is going to be painful.

Actually, don’t try this at home. I managed to bring home a tick, which I discovered only the next morning.

Pizza-eating contest with the squad. When we don’t cycle, we eat!

So many crashes, so much excitement! And what a treat to try the course before the pros – being an RCC member does have its perks.

Finally met my Masonite sister Nara! She’s got the aluminium version of my bike, albeit not with her today. But one day we’ll ride our blue steeds together, of that I’m sure!

Pre-Nocturne ride to Epping with the RCC ladies. Not enough to even break a sweat but that’s OK – for some of these ladies, this is the longest they’ve ever ridden and that’s quite special.

I was supposed to run the Stockholm Marathon this weekend with my family. Instead, we’ve all bailed – me unable to train with my six-week flu and others falling ill just the day before. So instead we go for a little spin in the woods of Lidingö, me and my not-so-little cousin Tim.

A big loud kiai from the dojo. Osu!

My Mason and I got fine tuned today by the talented folk at Vélo Atelier. Ready for our next epic randonnée!

Smiling all the way up Leith Hill with my beloved. Many times I’ve been brought to my knees by this hill – on my old Peugeot, climbing up Leith was impossible. Now, it’s a joy.

My ride snacks are changing. Gone are the gels and other carbs. Cheese is on the menu, as are almonds, Brazil nuts and organic tofu. All in the name of a 1200km randonnée.

After five days of keto, this randonneuse finally got her carb fix at the famous Blue Egg. Glorious 200km audax through pretty villages and woods where to hide during thunderstorms.

FINALLY back in the dojo, after a five-week flu. Feeling weak, useless and utterly determined.

Typical morning in the club: everyone wants to have a go on my circus bike.

Still sick as a dog. A colleague brings something called Super Orange. Surely that will fix me? Also, broth. And bed arrest. I’ve got to outsmart this miserable disease.

Day 2 riders are grinding their way across Surrey hills, as I admire my fourth London Revolution medal. 4 x 300 = 1200km of unforgettable saddle time.

I arrive in Windsor the night before. There are more drugs in my bag than gels and bars. While my hearing has more or less returned (after three weeks of having what sounded an ocean in my head), I’m still sick as a dog with acute bacterial sinusitis. Will I get in the saddle when morning comes? Tbd.