A short run home


I ran home from the office today. Including stops for traffic lights and getting lost in the maze of barricades around the Grand Prix circuit, I took twenty minutes. That’s the same as it takes me to get home on the MRT, and that’s when I’m still exhausted from Sunday’s expedition. Maybe I need to classify this as an actual race event. Last night at 10pm my watch warned me I needed 61 hours of recovery (worse than the 84 I needed at 7pm on Sunday). Today at 7pm I only needed 28 more hours, which I think means I’ve made up 12 hours of recovery today. All that staring out over the bay is doing something for me.

I’m still fairly tired; La Serpiente went bonkers last night and demanded I lie next to her while she twisted and turned and elbowed me in the face, until I remonstrated with her, pointing out that only one of us had to go to the office the next day. She relented for a while, then waited for me to go to sleep in my own bed before crawling in, the better to administer an early morning thump to the face. Thanks, child.

This evening wasn’t any easier for us. While La Serpiente went to sleep quickly, after several hours of howling and acting out, Destroyer spent three hours being deliriously happy, variously playing with my phone, lying on her back and kicking her feet in the air for twenty minutes, and desperately trying to dash her brains out on the floor. I don’t know where she can get any of this from.

Thus while I wanted to analyse and write up my further adventures in power meters, that will have to wait for another day. Now is the time to sleep.


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