Took it easy after the big queezy. Gave the legs a rest. Recovered psychologically from the English defeat. Suffered some pointed barbs on Facebook from some of my Teutonic friends and engaged in some retail therapy down at the local bike store.
Changed my saddle for the latest in ass technology. Some nerd in Sweden with way too much time on his hands figured out that the thinness of the saddle does not cause the pain. Apparently the issue is the pressure points. You have a couple of nerves right around the ass bones and if the saddle is not properly fitted, then it's " A Thousand Years on a Horseback" by Major Bumsore. The bike store salesman ushers me over to the saddle-fitting section and confidently eases me onto a heat pad that calculates the width of my seat bones, "to the millimeter". He then fits me up with the thinnest saddle I have ever seen.
"Are you sure that is gonna be more comfortable than the one I have right now, which is pretty thin by the way," I ask him.
"A lot of research has gone into this saddle," the bike shop salesman replied, shoving the literature in my hands.
How could I argue with that? He must have been on his school debating team.
I also purchased some very cool bars that allow you to ease onto your elbows on long straight roads. Changed the black tape around the handle bars for some dashing lime green to match the colour of the bike frame. Added another bottle of water. Hooked up two mini-tanks of air that instantly pump up a flat tire. And lastly, succumbed to another pair of black lycra padded shorts as per the advice of my training coach, Rufus.
I am now fully kitted.
Enjoy the video from the day of the big ride.
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