So after a quick chat with my partner, packed the bike and I was off, 12 fast miles of canal towpath to town, followed by another 15 miles joined by the Mrs along the seafront and then up the afan valley, fuelled by nothing more than bread rolls.
We arrived at the visitor centre's campsite, after hours and pitched up, tent went up in under a minute and we went through the usual ritual of setting up our bedding for the night, after some snacks we called it an early night.
Next morning, up and ready early we headed down to the cafe, we were early but they let us in and made us a cuppa on the house while they opened shop.
We then spent the day riding 30 odd miles of the various tracks and trails, Lucy loved the more technical downhill sections while I enjoy pushing my fitness on the climbs and soaking in the views.
I had to have a blood test every so often to check my glucose levels, and only needed very small insulin doses due to exercise, although keeping the pens cool that day was tricky,we also cleaned the trailhead cafe out of their sandwiches that day.
By 7pm we were broken, and chilled for the afternoon getting eaten alive by midges.
After what turned out to be a very wet night, we shook of the tent and packed up, we were ready to leave before the centre opened.
Half asleep but roaring to go, supporting my charity with my favourite jersey
Lucy was actually sad to be heading home, life on a bike is addictive
We then rode 12 very fast miles downhill along smooth NCN to port talbort for a McDonalds breakfast, processed meat and grease never sounded so appealing until that morning, although I had some odd looks from people as a man in tights casually stuck a needle into himself, an old woman was muttering to herself thinking I was a druggie, thought the jersey would give it away
On the ride home I bonked out on a main road, blood levels dropped to 2.3mmol and I could barely stand, sat beside a main road eating sugar tablets in the baking sun waiting for my bloods to rise, my stammer returned and I couldn't finish a sentence.
After a more gentle ride I started to feel myself again, arrived at my girlfriends flat where she got changed and dropped her bike off, she then caught a bus up the valley to my place while I rode back up the same canal, another 12 slightly slower miles.
I got home tired, sweaty, dirty but to be honest, I felt good, I didn't want to put the bike away, I could've done it all again right there, I'm telling you, its addictive, no stress, all I have to do is keep pedalling.
(note:this was meant to be posted sat when I got back, but had internet issues)
