Tempus Fugit?

Tick follows tock follows tick follows tock.

It’s funny how time works. I managed to secure my place onthe Tour back in October. I distinctly remember arranging for all my friends and relatives to sit, fingers poised over the ‘big red button’ to try and make sure I got a place. That was 9 months ago. 9 months where all I have done is train. Yet it seems like yesterday. However, I barely remember where I was last weekend, what training ride did I go on? Where did I go? What was the weather like? I struggle to remember, each ride tends to merge into one. Last weekend seems like an age ago, last month an epoch.

I did my last proper training session this evening, back onthe vomitron. 2 x 15 minute efforts at threshold pace with 5 minutes restbetween each. A session that I have done a million times before. A session thatis well below maximum effort but hard enough that it hurts. Those 15 minutes are spent looking at the clock urging time to go faster. But it never listens, seconds seem to last for ever. Yet the five minutes of recovery when I am able to look around and watch the house martins flit this way and that and admire the agility of wee the squirrel as it tries to steal the nuts out the bird feeders, those minutes seem to go by in a flash.

Tick follows tock follows tick follows tock.

I leave in a couple of days. I dropped my race bike off for transport to France at the weekend. I feel bereft without it. Like I have an itch that I cannot scratch. My kit is all packed up and is sitting expectantly in the hall, the clothes I am going to travel in are laid out and neatly folded in the corner of my room. All that is left is for my razor and my toothbrush tobe added to my kit bag.

My training has been scaled back, one easy ride tomorrow and another the day I go – if I can fit it in. Just to keep the body ticking over, making sure I am as rested as I can be, whilst trying and minimise any loss of form. It’s likely that I will go into the tour slightly undercooked. But it will be a long three weeks. There is plenty of time for that form to come.

I have been training hard for 9 months. In that time I havepedalled almost 13,000km (nearly 8,000 miles, that’s Glasgow to Darwin). I’ve spent almost 500 hours in the saddle, I’ve lost nearly 3 stone in weight. I have had 3 crashes, innumerable punctures but yet I have been lucky. No injuries, no illnesses, no extraneous drama, nothing to disrupt my training. I feel like I am well prepared, as well prepared as I can be. I know that if my luck continues and I avoid injury or accident, then I am fit enough to take on this challenge and perhaps even enjoy it. It will still hurt, but if the challenge is great enough, there is sometimes joy in suffering.
4 sleeps.

Tick follows tock follows tick follows tock.

Tempus fugit. I just which tempus would get a shifton with its fugiting, I am ready to start today, not tomorrow.

It seems very real now, very close, but it seems in norush to get here.

Patience might be a virtue, but currently it's a virtue that I don't seem to have.
Until Saturday, all I can do is wait...

Tick follows tock follows tick follows tock.

From Glasgow,
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