Tell us about your weekend ride

I go through a wood that smells of garlic.

Wild garlic?

At Chipstead my mood turns as I think of the last climb of the day, Rectory Road. The one I liked to use as my final training hill whenever I returned from a ride in Surrey. As I approach it, I feel the need to give myself a pep talk. "Look. Boff. Remember. You've done this hill before. About a million times. You know it. You know every corner, every bump, every level, and every landmark on it. Don't be afraid of it now. You can do this. It's been a year, and yes, last time you had a smaller chainring, and yes, every other time you've done it, it's been after 40 miles, not 90. But you're stronger now, and everything is going to be fine so long as you just keep pushing, don't give up. Smooth circles. Keep pushing." After a few minutes of this, I become slightly confused. "Wait, isn't this the top of the climb?" It turns out that not only can I do it, even after 90 miles, but that it's no longer the beast I thought it was. In that instant, Surrey suddenly shrinks, the way your hometown did when you first returned as an adult after you left to grow up without your parents.

[...]

I think about how much stronger I've become and smile at my cycle computer that tells me I'm getting faster at the same time. 101 miles, 4400ft of elevation today, at a respectable pace. I am content.

Well done!

Lovely report.