Something that is often not my strong point, but sensible decisions can be useful none the less. Tonight I was supposed to go and do an awesome thing called a Friday Night Ride to the Coast (FNRttC). Meet 60 or so like-minded individuals at Hyde Park Corner in London, see some old friends, meet some new faces, and on the stroke of midnight pedal off towards the sea arriving in time for breakfast. Damn, I have been excited about this, having not done one for over a year. So why am I not going? I’m making a sensible decision. If I’d made some earlier in the week then I might still be going.
Looking at the past week I can see two times where I could have made a different choice. Event number one, I crash my bike on the way to Mile End climbing wall. What I did, was to start drafting a man on a motorbike. Not a sensible decision. If you’re wondering, motorbike brakes work really well, and when he stopped sharply, I did not. Somehow I didn’t go into the back of him, but I did hit the deck. Some bruising, a scrape or two, I jumped up and continued my journey. Still went climbing it was great, but my right leg was definitely sore.
Event number two, I went climbing again Thursday night. On the first climb of the evening I nailed a route that had been defeating me for a couple of sessions. Super nice. What I should then have done is down climb back to the floor. What I did do, though, was jump down to the mat from 3.5 metres up. Hmm, questionable choice. Upon landing this was made abundantly clear, as I felt pain immediately in my right hamstring. Ouch. After a few more failed attempts at climbs I realised it needed a rest so decided to leave, but still rode home for an hour. It’s not really bad, but I don’t want to turn a small niggle into a real injury and a week of rest.
Which brings me back to this evening, and the reason I will not be cycling under starry skies tonight. I’m making a sensible decision not to go. I think I could ride with a little bit of discomfort, but I really don’t want to risk it when we are 4 weeks out from setting off to Romania. It’s killing me not to go, I was so excited for this. There’s nothing quite like swooping down country lanes in a silent peloton, drinking in the darkness, going from warm to cold to warm air pockets as the road undulates. But I’m making a sensible decision.