Stairway To Heaven

I was climbing up the stairs, heading for the bedroom, tonight when my legs reminded me of the three hard training days I have just completed.

It brought back vivid memories of my Tour de France. Many of the hotels I stayed in had steep narrow staircases and my room always seemed to be on the highest floor.

No matter how many cols I had conquered during the day's ride, the hardest climb was always that last one, up the stairs to finally let the miracle of sleep do its magic.

And miracle it was. Some days I could barely make it to my door. I'd go to bed not even daring to think about all the miles to ride let alone all the mountains that would be standing in my way come the morning.

Yet in the morning I would feel refreshed. The aches were never all gone, but they always receded, becoming just a niggle not a nag. A good cup of coffee plus a croissant or three helped further ease the pain.

And then the final miracle. Every day I would start my ride still feeling a little tired. But a few minutes later, once out of the village/town and with an open road into the unknown beckoning I felt like a new man, on many occasion stronger than ever before.

Come the end of the day it would be sore legs and another staircase but that was for later. 

After a while I got to not to regard DOMS with dread but just the contrary. The sign of a day well spent and a signal that tomorrow I would be a even better, able to ride further and climb higher.