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Gifts from The Morning Star
‘Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?’
MATT KERR ponders the seduction on offer from a turbo-trainer to the detriment of a road romance
The real McCoy [Azanti/CC]

MY LEGS fizzed, every last fibre twitching away, drowning in lactic acid. The breathing, slow, steady, deep. Hands resting on the bars, not moving, corners come and go, I’ve no idea how.

Was it Alpe d’Huez, or the Crow Road? 

The front feels light, ready for take-off, but there’s no fight or flight in this union of flesh and steel. It knows where it’s going.

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