This one goes to eleven...

Eleven days out. I took my bike over to be properly fitted, and it's not just me. The guy at the shop was GENIUNELY STUMPED by the oddity that is my body. To wit:

If my knees are in line, my arse is uncomfortable.

If my arse is in line, my toes go numb.

If my arse is comfortable, my shoulder is outta whack.

FIVE HUNDRED EIGHTY-FIVE MILES TO GO!

I'm only a little bit nervous.

It's the anxiety that's killing me.