It is the the night before the race. With the wind howling and the rain - well, just doing its thing - it was no day to be cycling. For cycling I was going to have done. Not a hard, push yourself to the limit sort of session. No, more a pootle through the tulips - if, indeed, there are any tulips lieing around on the roads at this time of year - which, as we fast approach winter, I suspect is extremely unlikely - unless, of course, the implausible event of a lorry from East Timor carrying a cargo of Timorian Tulips had happened to pass by this part of the world and, by way of increasing the implausibility, had also shed said load all over the carriageway, thus enabling me to have pootled through those tulips. All of which brings me to a suitably apt point to... get my coat.
Goodnight for now, for tomorrow we die - in a running sense...
Thought for the day: Don't panic!
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