Headed timidly over to Mount Cootha this morning to see if I could get to the top. It didn't look good 6km into the cycle to the base, as I started to struggle at 15km/h.
Park the bike. Flat ground. I'm feeling OK actually...
Incline. Alright, maybe I'm not OK.
Ahhhh, achilles cramps! Lower legs are a mess!
Then I got onto the single track at Simpsons falls, one of the few places in the world that I feel entirely at home, and started to feel more decent.
Grunt, step up, grunt grunt, step up.
By the time I had hit the tarmac at the top of Cootha, the niggles had all but disappeared, and my mojo was back. The human body is incredible.
Nevertheless, after a tough gym session and a subsequent sleep on the grass at uni, I lifted my backpack off of the ground a little too quickly and did a number on the right bicep. Hopefully it wont hinder me tomorrow, when I return to my favourite place in the world.