Whatever that means
I knew it wasn’t going to go well when my legs started hurting around lunchtime after TFP and I tried to trigger a speed camera on the run into work. Didn’t manage it but did manage to get up to 32.6mph. Another 2.5mph and it should flash.
I knew it wasn’t going well when I had to stop after a couple of minutes climbing up Arthur’s Seat to let my heart slow down when it was threatening to bang its way out of my chest. It definitely wasn’t going well when my GPS doofer stopping recording because I was moving too slowly. But I eventually clawed my way to the waiting Joe, wingpig and Dara. At least they weren’t drumming their fingers on the handlebars or having a snooze.
Still, after that it was fun. Kind of. Well, it can only get better.
The photo: I was hanging around the Parliamen
t after leaving too early. The sun was streaming down the High Street so I was seeing what I could get from the stuff carved and embedded on the wall. It was pure luck that the kiltie man walked by.