|The other week I mentioned how sometimes you just don’t care about your riding being a work-out and you just want to get home. That was me yesterday. I rode like a grandma, a very tired grandma. Granted, over those 7.5km separating my workplace and my flat I still had an average speed that was faster than my best time on the old Helkama, but still, I just felt like I was pedalling because it was moving me forward but I didn’t even try to push harder.
In other news, carrot juice in a box tastes different than freshly pressed carrot juice and I might actually like the box version better.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is about as interesting as life gets these days.