Old Upper Thomson Road, 29 km. This post has an odd label: "training". I'm not training for a race. Or for a charity ride. I'm training for a long ride. It could be 400 km. Or 1,000 km.
I have a choice of distance. I know that if I don't train, it's going to harder. So, do I spread suffering over time, like instalments, or pay in one lump sum? Well, that lump sum will be spread over time too: during the multi-day ride. But, with training, instalments are spread out during the training period and the ride itself.
And why am I unsure whether it'll be 400 or 1,000 km? Because I don't know how my injured limbs will hold up. And it'll be Matt Black's maiden expedition too.
Today, for the first time, I remove her brake pads, which have been screeching complaints at me. I brush it with toothbrush and water (but no toothpaste) and the complaints stop.
If only I could brush away the misfortune that's befallen me again and again, at work and at play. But then, these are the vagaries of life.