A plague on your house
I’m sick. Actually, I’m sick of being sick. Catching a cold on Christmas Eve was a nuisance, but when you are hacking and wheezing two weeks later, it is a complete pain in the assos.
Succumbing to a virus is an occupational hazard when you are racing and training through the winter. It is rare to get through an entire ‘cross season bug-free, but a few days of loafing around the house will usually see it off. This is an altogether stronger strain of lurgy which refuses to leave the building, passing round from one family member to the next. There is now a black cross on the front door to keep visitors away. If the Novovirus gets in here, it could finish us off.
Missing three races over the past couple of weeks was particularly galling. Fettling the bikes and watching races on the Mac (courtesy of the excellent Nathan Spear) doesn’t give you the same kick as an hour of hurtling round a muddy field.
Enough moaning. Summoning all the powers of mind-over-matter at my disposal, I shall be back for next weekend’s league race and firing on all cylinders. Or a couple of them, at least…