The sarcasm of a (tiny) training partner.

Just when does it happen? At precisely which point in the development of  a youngster, does the cruel ability to coat questions with a thick layer of sarcasm, arise?

This morning I did 35 minutes on the turbo before work. It’s part of a new routine to negate a recent reduction in ride time. And it’s cruel; my alarm bleeps at 6am, my tired limbs creak into position as I stumble across the bedroom and pull on cycling kit. 10 minutes later I’m operating at around 75% in front of a Sufferfest video (due to the early hour of the day and the aged nature of the limbs, 80% is unlikely, 85% impossible). Important details to note: It is the Sufferfest ‘Downward spiral’ video. It contains footage of Paris-Roubaix.

Anyway. I crack on. I finish. Crawl back through the kitchen, have a shower, get dressed and join my wife and daughter at the breakfast table.

Mrs N: Good session?

Me: Yes, thanks. I did half of that sufferfest session, you know, the one with the cobbles in it.

little Ms N: Cobbles?

Me: Yes.

Little Ms N: Did you fall off?

Queue big grin on daughter’s plainly chuffed face at her quick witted gag and queue even larger quizzical eyebrow raise and unimpressed face from Dad. 

The cheeky monkey.

Top image taken during this year’s trip to Paris-Roubaix. For the record, in 2015, I DID NOT FALL OFF.

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