Monday, September 6, 2010

What a difference a week makes

Well, that and some drugs. Last week I went out for a ‘stretch the legs’ ride and got in 75 miles. I had a pretty fast time (for me) and I felt ‘strong like bull’ when I got home. I was recovering from a sinus/ear/lung infection and in that I was taking a heavy duty antibiotic and steroid anti-inflammatories.

This weekend, I planned a 200K perm with some friends. I woke Saturday morning and knew there were problems in the boiler room. (I took the last of the killer antibiotics the night before) It was 5:30 am and our ride was planned to start at 7:00am. I hoped against hope that everything would sort itself out in due course and I’d be ready to ride at 7:00.

I felt obligated to make it to the start as it was my idea and I had printed out cards for the riders. I made it but not without 2 (TWO!) emergency stops by the side of the road. I also made several visits to the men’s room at Top Foods once there. No way was I riding.

Mrs C and I went for a short ride later that day, and then today (the day to honor our labors) I rode a route similar to last Saturdays but maybe five miles shorter. I made the turn for home at Blue heron Bakery instead of riding into Oly. BHB was open (thank you scab labor hippie bakers!) I had a couple berry turnovers and was soon on my way. I did not feel ‘strong like bull’, I was not fast, and as I sit here tapping this out I feel like I rode that 200K in a cold rain.

Just goes to show,  you never know what is inside one of those chocolates in that box, until you bite into it.

I had a great ride and I needed it. While I was feeling a little too poorly to ride a 200K on Saturday, it did not hold me back from making a big mess in the kitchen on Sunday which resulted in a little ‘levain du pain francais’.


I have been playing around with sourdough bread since my fam was here last month. My first attempts were A for effort and maybe A+ for messyness, but this:

Boule

Batards

This is awfully close to sourdough french. We inhaled the Boule but were compelled to gift the two batards to the neighbors. Too much of a good thing is really, too much.  Anyway, I’m on the right track (bread and riding) and I believe that really good sourdough french is possible, just have to keep trying.

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