A family party and a wet weekend in Wales put a serious dampner on my riding plans. Instead, for the fourth time this week, I lifted the back wheel of my bike into position against a fly-wheel and pedalled myself into a sweaty mess.
Turbo trainers, on paper at least are a great invention, perfect for the time-poor cyclist who doesn't fancy riding in the cold/wet/dark/ice. Yet the reality is markedly different. Without the cooling effect of the wind, the sweat pours off, so you need a space where you can sweat freely - my garage ticks those boxes. Mental stimulation is tough too, which is where the garage falls down as it lacks a TV, radio and an internet connection - vital armoury in the home-cyclist's fight against boredom.
Tonight, in my first hour long session, I hooked a laptop up and watched a music DVD to help keep me going. My regular week-night, half-hour blasts don't afford me the luxury of setting up a laptop so I try and keep boredom at bay with an ipod and pictures of various cyclists stuck on the garage wall in front of me. I know every detail of those pictures.
Here's hoping it'll be worth in the spring.
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