It's been a while. I seem to have been busy. There have been a lot of road cycling miles going into my legs which makes me chuckle on so many levels.
My sense of the ridiculous seems quite sensitive. How did it become normal to step out of the front door wearing lycra? I used to wear leggings in my twenties as a standard going out item, way back when there was some kind of definition between where my bum ended and my legs began. I couldn't go out like that now, I'd feel exposed, naked and opening myself up wide to mutton dressed as lamb comments.
Yet somehow, lycra shorts are now normal. I've even eased off my concern over those with the tighter elastic holding bands on the thighs. I used to hate the bulge which appeared above those, making my legs look weirdly shaped and fat. Now the bulge seems to be more below the leg bands, and I find myself mesmerised by this change in body shape which has produced this bizarre muscle formation just above my knee. You win some, you lose some. I may have gained above knee bulk but I have also gained slimmer ankles. Swings. Roundabouts.
The weird acceptance of the rear pockets on the jersey, the pockets distended, so much weight in them that they form three odd shaped packages hovering above my bum. That doesn't do a lot for folk's perception of my figure either. Viewed from behind, I no longer have a waist. What I do have is a collection of cereal bars which I have refined according to experience. I don't carry anything which could melt, so no chocolate chips. I don't carry anything crumbly, so no baked style goods. I don't carry much any more. The days of "bonking" through calorie deficit seem to be a little in the past, and I come home after 70K often having eaten no more than one off the shelf non sporting chewy bar.
I haven't accepted cloppy shoes. I'm still wearing touring style shoes with mountain bike style clip ins. I like to not look like a muppet walking into M&S Simply food.
I confess, I wear black socks. Deal with it.