There is a soccer team–the rival to my friend’s favourite team–called the Wednesday.  The origin, if correct, was that they played on Wednesday.  They were also butchers and their team uniform reflects the apron of the profession.

Why am I telling you this?  Probably because I had considered titling this post and my thrown together cycling group the Monday, rather than the Monday’s–maybe it should be the Mondays….too much to think about.  I am writing this while waiting for my students to appear online for class.  I am going to change it, but I would like your feedback on that.

For the past few Monday evenings, some of us have gotten together to complete a short evening ride.  This group was mostly organized by one of my fellow Newmarket Eagles riders.  She is keen on riding and goes out for a lot of kilometres per week.  She has really caught the cycling and fitness bug and she is relentless.  I have to admit that it is contagious.  I think she is going out every night this week as well as doing early morning high intensity workouts.

My riding has been up and down lately.  On Saturday, I was running late, but managed to meet the group on the way.  It was a bit of a fluke because I hadn’t looked at the route and if I had, I wouldn’t have bothered.  They were supposed to head in another direction, but changed the start of the route at the last minute.  I don’t know if their change was better, but it meant I could run into them.

I ended up not feeling particularly well and bailed after about 15 kilometres.  I was pretty slow and my stomach was a bit nauseous.  I kept up at the beginning, but the climbs wore me out.  I was glad, I got out, but dropping back and dropping out soured me for the rest of the weekend.  I didn’t even put the 15 up on Strava–and you know what they say, if it isn’t on Strava, it didn’t really happen.

So, last night was a bit of redemption.  I was still slower than the group, but kept up until the very end–but by that point I was completely spent.  I rode the last few kilometres fast, but they weren’t the pleasant ones.

When I got home, I was completely spent.  Even eating was an arduous task.  The thing is, despite how tired I was, I felt glad that I had gone out.  I guess it is true.  You regret the things you didn’t do more than the tings you did.