Mental preparation

I've got a box of rhubarb and custard gels.
I've downloaded some Sopranos, something with Scarlet Johanssen and an underground film about extreme endurance hamsters.
I'm girding my loins. Well, smothering them in arse-lard.
I've got a shiny new Powertap and a Garmin to listen to it.
I've installed my dribble catcher and got the mind-numbing syrup ready.

Yes, it's time for endurance training on a turbo. Multiple hours of dullness with extra sweat and sugary things.

My record is four hours. That isn't pleasant. I think it does display a certain mental strength though, the kind of mental strength that 1920's chain gangs needed as they dug ditches for hour after hour after hour. At least they had people to whisper too, and the occasional beating for excitement. No-one will come and beat me.

I'm not going to manage four hours tomorrow. I've got a haircut booked, and Milan-San Remo is on. I've also got to have breakfast, lunch, a sleep, read the paper, go to the post office and buy a pudding to take to Colin's on Sunday.

Actually, I think I may give it a miss.