The rise of the machines

The apprentice is keen to use the "walking machine" as he has seen it being used as part of yours trulys prep for the BBMC 2014. Yes its that time of year when I forget the promise never to do it again as long as I finish and the pain stops routine and fill out the application form and hope that I get my place again this year. The event calendar is filling up, sportives in June and July, BBMC in May, some mountain marathons in December, and the three peaks 450 mile bike ride in 72 hours date to be decided.
I am in training but the training blog is a bit behind as any time free for that is spent pressing buttons on my training gizmo, a futile exercise as it still only deigns to tell the time. The on line support is not proving useful as its a series of videos of a well manicured hand pressing buttons with different digits while the LCD screen displays all sorts of technical info. This might be some help had whoever decided in the Suunto camp (they made the watch) to make the videos put a commentary to go with it. On watching the opening sequences I was convinced the apprentice had altered the settings on the computer again (we have only just recovered from him turning everything German) and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to find the mute off button until I spotted some angry feedback from other punters who lamented the silent film techniques.
The exercise bike that died November 2012, and for whom an engineer tasked with fixing it wanted a £150 for the privilege of looking at it before undertaking any work, has taken the hint of the skip outside the workshop and has found a fresh lease of life. On the off chance it would work I twiddled the pedals and the self powered computer box glowed red and displayed the necessary info to prompt a full on personal best assault. It tried to kill me tonight as we did 33.3km in 60 minutes, which I was very pleased with (really, today I could not have gone faster, five hours on I am still feeling it) but it occurred to me ( the random thoughts that fill your head as you pedal furiously are often maths based, how many calories have I burned equating to sugary snacks I can then consume/should not have consumed, average speed not good enough/better than expected, distance covered ditto, how much faster/slower can I pedal to achieve target, will I pass out at 140rpm, how much longer is there left and so on)  as I sweated at a standstill that this speed meant I was doing 100 metres in around 9.5 seconds.
Only just faster than Usain Bolt can run the same distance.