Today I did some intervals and, before the last 8k climb home stopped and ate a croissant (yeah i eat gluten, and butter and sugar and i LOVE it) .
As I hit the base of the climb my intention was to roll up in z3, at the same time an old man in liberty seguros kit (with sleeves removed) hopped on my wheel. Soon he was attacking and I was content to let him go. Then I decided to give chase as my ego dictated I must. I pretty quickly got up to him and decided to leave him a small gap until later in the climb in case he had a cardiac trying to attack me again. As I was considering this I passed a small group of old men, wearing assorted pro kits of every pro team a Catalan rider has been on in the last decade, they also jumped on my wheel and exhorted me to catch the chap up front. Each of them took a huge pull before pulling off. 200 yards before the summit the last pensioner made a final effort and I put the bike on the big ring, passing mister seguros at the summit. I didn't have the heart to tell them I go up the climb faster alone but seeing these old boys acting out a grand tour drama reminded me how great bike racing is.
Today the sun is shining and there is beer in my fridge. A farmer gave me two apples on my way home as well! Happy Tuesday everyone. Go for a ride