And down he goes

Hit the tarmac at about 40km/h today, trying to be the new Achilles but really more of a Hector. Achilles had actually sprung away from me, drafting up on his coach's van. I had neglected in my frenzy to note the frost all around us on the road. Hence, I became intimate with it at a very high speed. I know have a hunk of flesh from my left hip which looks rather like something tasty you could dip a chip into. Rats, I hate it when this happens; I never sleep well, and this only makes it worse.

Tomorrow I'm looking at a de-tuned OBB ride I think. Bring the frenzy down a notch.