Old Bones are back with bones pretty much intact!
It has to be said that after the disappointment of not making it to the Black Sea, writing the blog took a bit of a nose dive. Actually the effort involved in typing with only one functioning wrist reduced my enthusiasm for communication. However, we have not been inactive during this crashing silence. Even at our advanced age, bones do mend, if somewhat reluctantly. So, despite the dire warnings from the surgeon about the foolhardy nature of bike riding, or more accurately, falling off, we resumed normal service by visiting the hills in the Lot valley in August. This had been our training ground prior to our traverse of the Pyrenees, so it seemed like a good idea and a way of gauging how far the mighty had fallen (me). Quite a long way as it turned out. I spent much time staring into the distance, watching Alan swarming up the hills while I tried to persuade my lungs that they really did have sufficient capacity to feed oxygen to my muscles. My coercion had some limited affect, but not enough for us to ride companionably side by side. It seemed that was still some way off. However, beautiful scenery and lots of warm sunshine can work their own magic. Legs firmed up somewhat and lungs began to co-operate. A week later, we were home again and enthusiastically (mm……. not sure about the enthusiasm) whizzing (also debateable) around our training circuit.