Dead Legs, Better Lungs and Victor Meldrew

I did what will now be known as the three peaks this morning. This is the one where I met the old chap who asked me if I was OK in early March.

I set off and felt fine, but at the first sign of a hill my legs felt dead. Completely dead. 'Oh dear', I thought to myself, 'this isn't good'. Anyways, I pushed on through the pain and burning and reached the top of the first hill.

The second hill was a touch better, still burning, but a bit more power in the legs. By the third hill I was motoring. I even went up it in 8th gear (seeing as my bike refused to go down into first), and reached the top in better style than ever. I guess the legs were full of *some kind of stuff your body shoves in there to do some good* after my cycle to work on Wednesday.

I have seen a real improvement in my lungs over the past little while. It's interesting, but late in the evening I have a bit of a cough for a couple of hours. I have put this down to my body clearing out lung passages that haven't been used. Ever.

So, the three peaks out of the way I came back through one of the villages. At one point a car drove past at top speed and then slowed right down. 'What's going on here' I remember thinking, just as it decided to turn left, about 3 yards in front of me! I slammed on my brakes, it *slowly* turned into the entrance (through which it was going at a slow speed because it was blind and I expect didn't want to cause an accident :D ), and then it was off. I didn't even have time to wave my fist. If only they had waited for, like, a millisecond they could have turned in after I had gone past. 'I don't belieeeeeeve iiiiiit'.

Am I going to turn into the Victor Meldrew of the roads? Tell you what, my wife would not be at all surprised.