Wrecked

When I went to bed last night I was empty. Quads? Cooked. Calves? Tight. Hamstrings? Like piano wire.

But I didn't feel too bad when I woke up, so I rode. I was tired and sore, but it's the Tour of Flanders this weekend, so I rationalized that if those guys can go out and suffer on the cobbles, then I could slog through a day of low energy and muscle fatigue.

Well, I failed to factor into the equation that I'm 37 and their average age is about 27, that they live and breathe suffering, whereas I just dabble.

So at some point I wrecked my back. I'm sitting here at my desk, ice packed and ibuprofened. I can hardly walk.

I'll try to post some video of last year's Tour of Flanders for your Friday video treat.