August 2013

[Sweder]

Banked a belter with MLCMMan this morning, 18 kilometres of unrelenting undulations to stretch mere mortals' sinews. Sydney may yet endure another day of Winter but no-one told the sun. Clear blue skies and rising temperatures waited patiently as we scarfed a hasty breakfast.

The first four klicks accompanied roads teaming with traffic. Giant cement mixers jousted with throaty Harleys just a few feet away as we dropped out of Gordon. Mercifully in no time we were in the soothing arms of the Lane Cove National Park. Gum trees offered lofty respite from both sun and hubbub as we loped off, chatting easily. My legs felt stron, road shoes, large and flappy on Wednesday, full of that new-shoe bounce. The road wound into the heart of the park, our soundtrack the occasional swoosh of passing cyclists and raucous cackling from rude avians hidden in the branches overhead.

9 ks in we turned into the heat of the run. That same road, benign and gentle on the descent, snaked up and away into the forest. I still felt great, bouncing up the road, chirruping away about all and sundry. At times I could barely feel the incline, embracing the cool breeze on my beading brow. Soon enough the Freeway bellowed a throaty welcome as we emerged from the foliage to rejoin the hot pavement. Just as I was wondering if we might add a mile or two to make it a proper Half the big climb home bit down hard. By the time we'd reached the summit we were both bathed in sweat and gasping for air, stretching our tight-wound legs. Any offer of extras here would have met spluttered derision. We chugged back to Chez MLCMMan, taken aback by the brutality of those last two kilometres. I took full and unfair advantage of my 'guest' status, claiming first dibs on a restorative shower whilst G fired up the coffee machine.

18 kilometres of serious hill work, two hard-working hours in the bank.