So went to my bike after school to find that some fucking potato had fucked the brakes up as well as covering the whole thing with fruit. That got me mad, cycled to French class on an unrideable bike before then proceeding to running fuming the entire time. Got to running and found out Cheyne wasn't coming and that we were doing hills. Hills are 360m long and very shallow so we do reps up and down the hill to prepare for cross country. I was meant to be doing 24 reps but had to mange with 18 as after my final one I couldn't hold the shit that had been brewing inside of me all day any longer. First reps were up the hill so the odd numbers are slower as we are ascending.
Times: 1:15, 1:08, 1:09, 1:05, 1:10, 1:05, 1:08, 1:06, 1:07, 1:04, 1:07, 1:05, 1:07, 1:04, 1:06, 1:02, 1:07, 1:01.
Okay session, wasn't struggling too much even on the last ones. Felt good and fit but that shit killed me man. Indescribable. Then had to go pick up my fruity bike and got locked out the house with mum while Sophie was showering so she couldn't open the door. 10.1km all up. I'm going to murder the race this weekend.
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