8am and the alarm clock chirps into life, in complete contrast to the body next to it slowly shuffling to the start line of the new day.
My eyes slowly wrench open, breaking the seal that's kept them firmly shut for seven hours. Once again the working week has taken its toll. Not enough rest. Another sleep deficit starts to build up.
It's still dark outside; winter's morning misery.
Into the bathroom and the spare room, washed and dressed, and down to the kitchen. Porrige and a strong coffee to get some fuel in the tank.
I head out to the garage and feel winter's icy blast. My chilblains send a message of defeat to my brain. My brain responds "I never liked you anyway."
I'm out the door. "Just a leg loosener," I tell myself, "tomorrow's the big one." A new village to find and new lanes to discover give me the excuse I need to trick my brain into heading out.
An hour and a half later I'm rolling back home, cold but satisfied.
I shower, I eat, I rest. I glow with post-exercise euphoria. The rest of the day passes. I'll wake up tomorrow and do exactly the same.
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