Archive for March, 2009

Keeping Grant company

Thursday, March 26th, 2009

Overdone it. Riding to stop the noise in my head and ‘damn the consequences’ caught up with me good and proper at four o’clock this morning. The pain monkeys had all the tools out and the shoulder not wanting to be left out joined in. Gave in, got up, made a cuppa and broke the glass on the ‘for emergencies only’ painkillers.

Pottered around, tidied up a bit, gave the cat an early breakfast, read for a while. Waited, sleep rolled in sometime between six and seven. Phone rang around ten. Got up delt with it and considered starting the day but battered and shattered clearly hadn’t left the building. The cat in his infinite wisdom got up stretched, re-arranged himself on his side of the duvet and went back to sleep. I followed suit minus the stretching. Surfaced around lunchtime. Weary but the tools are back where they should be.

And the weather…

Wednesday, March 25th, 2009

Was shoddy, interspersed with showers of cr*p, disappointment, a knife in the guts and much precipitation.

Several nights spent staring at the ceiling, which doesn’t get any more interesting as the clock crawls to dawn. Despondent, motivation in minuses. The cat got fed and that’s about it.

Then friends, the ones that matter, ring to check, just because and it helps. And a ride, a ‘proper’ one for which I’m late and contrite. But it’s ‘no bother’ and a smile. Much admiring of the new and exceedingly lovely bike. Dusty trails, properly warm, even by my reptilian standards. Gilet and armwarmers dispensed, whiter than white exposed to sunlight. Natter, tea, cheese-straws, singletrack, more smiles. Things get put where they should be.

Shop for breakfast, assist in it’s cooking, hit the sofa but it’s no good. My head’s full of cotton wool soaked in treacle, limbs are shakey lead. Back to bed with eyelids like anvils. Sleep till 4ish. Prep dinner, fling on kit ‘cos the sun’s been shining from deep blue everytime I’ve unglued an eye and looked up. I can’t not, you understand, no matter how silly. Promptly get lost, back track. Wibbles. Bearable.

First climb, long and draggey at the best of. Drop a few gears, keep dropping. Get to the top, sweating, shaking, blurred. Rummage, shovel in food, sit. The light’s against me and I know I’ll have to take the short cut but I pretend and take the turn past the farm with the lake and the swoopy bit. The sinking sun’s reflected in still water. Stand and stare, letting it seep gently in.

Turn regretfully to the short cut. It’s getting gloomy and a bit nippy. But my jerseys more visible than a black windproof and the cold makes me feel ‘alive’. Zip back down the climb. There’s just a glimmer of light by the time I get back. Employ all the emergency measures I can muster. Sleep comes like anaesthetic.

The inevitable’s arrived overnight, the special tools are out but Monday’s are supposed to hurt right? My head’s half treacle, but half dust ‘n sunshine, with a smattering of living, the echo of body plus bike, movement, not sadness, stagnation and ceilings. It’s drowning out the noise. Worth it? Every time and if you don’t get it I don’t care and I probably just don’t want to know you anymore.


Friday, March 20th, 2009 got used for what it was intended. Went to da shops, we even tried a bridleway albeit briefly. And I’m glad we did, had a flash back to the Wolds circa 1990, off-roading my road bike in stripey victorian stylee shorts complete with lace trim*, black Fila’s, wind in my hair (no helmet back then) sun always shone..

Cut back to the present – budget saddle choice didn’t make its presence felt.. exactly as it should be. The ‘wider’ bars seem just as narrow, shoulders still feel like they’re at ear level. Work in progress. Didn’t fall off, this time.

* what was I thinking…

The House of Sleep

Wednesday, March 11th, 2009

I rode, it’s fair to say it was the first ‘proper’ ride of 2009. The Downs were surprisingly dry, the company was good, tea and cheese straws at Peaslake. What more could you ask?

However, I’m going to add ‘it’ll just be a bimble’ to the list of riding misnomers and sayings to be taken with a liberal pinch of salt eg this is the last hill, it levels out just round the corner. About 25 miles later we got home.

No don’t get me wrong it was marvelous. I just wasn’t quite ready for it after an enforced lay off on top of the usual. Some 9 1/2 hours sleep, awake in time for the omnibus edition of The Archers, out of bed shortly after. Brunch, faffage and then back to bed and another hours sleep (not bad for an insomniac). Didn’t make it out of my ‘jammies till gone 4 o’clock. Spent most of Monday in bed, dozed in the afternoon.