A surreal experience.

Saturday night: no sleep. Instead, pedaling along with 1400 other cyclists all through the night. Just an empty road, lots of bike lights blinking in the pitch black, lots of laughter and friendly people. The sound of bike chains rolling on the cogs, the sound of changing gears, the bats flying above our heads. And then the sunrise, not dramatic, just slowly creeping in, the night giving way to a new day. The cool morning on the pebbly beach, nothing but a tiny cafe - and bikes, an unbelievable number of bikes. Then the station, the train we were thrown out of ("Only four bikes allowed", said the conductor, and there were 50 or so), riding for another 30 miles to the nearest big station, pushing myself even more. Running on empty, grunting on the uphill parts, going against the wind. The train home, no time to sleep, talking to other fellow crazy people who did the Dunwich Dynamo this year.
An unforgettable night.
Now I know why some people say it's addictive. I can't wait for the next year's edition. Meanwhile, more cycling next weekend. And the weekend after that.
No change on the scales, I'm afraid; not yet. I turned into an Omnomnom Monster yesterday - I think it was the combination of lack of sleep, hunger, muscle pain and exhaustion that made me devour more than I should have. A total of 1200-1300 kcals, so not that bad really, but my stomach wasn't very happy. This is what happens when you get used to not having normal-sized meals.
Oh well.
Back to normal today (cereal with skimmed milk for breakfast, sushi for lunch, air for dinner), and I'm planning to visit the gym, too. And yes, I did cycle to work, ignoring the whines and complaints of my sore bum.
Still tired. Need sleep. Or more coffee. Or both.