(This old blog has been rescued by Tee in Washington State, thank you so much )
After the previous weekend mauling by ' The Cheshire Cat' , last weeks cycling was limited to a meagre 55 miles.
With the prospect of three weeks hard cycling amongst the Texas Blue bonnets, I decided to give myself a less taxing schedule. I was quite sure that my now 'off white legs' would be happy for some respite, certainly my glutenous maximus was !!!!
I can't seem to keep everyone happy though. Scott was not at all amused. He sulked so much that I had to put him in the garden shed, and even turn him around to face the back wall.
I know its tough on him but he cant always be the centre of my attention.
Maybe he is just a bit insecure about me going away ? If Id really appreciated that bikes were so sensitive before I took up cycling, I'd have become an overnight rambler, train spotter or twitcher.
I do feel a bit guilty though as I still haven't told him about 'Bianchi'.
I'm not really sure how he is going to take it and to be frank, I am dreading it. Bikes know when you are unfaithful, its second nature to them. The change of grip, the way you straddle them, the minor seat adjustments - all tell tale signs. If you have been anywhere near another bike they will know for sure.
A lot of people cycle to into where I work. The other day, I was admiring a rather classy looking scarlet Trek. I was even invited to straddle it and wizz around the car park.
It felt fantastic between my legs. It had fancy wheels and tri-bar shifters which responded to the very lightest of hand movements. What a bike !!!!!!
Scott knew as soon as I walked in. He took the right hump and was very awkward about going out with me that evening. He usually shows his displeasure by finding me a deep pot hole, or flicking up some remnants of road kill into my face. On this particular occasion he slipped his chain as I set off from the first traffic lights, rendering me motionless in a busy box junction. Nice one Scott.He is sensitive about all other bikes.
As a cycling enthusiast, I subscribe to cycling Plus. I have had to make special arrangements to have it delivered in a plain brown envelope to ensure that Scott does not shred it before I get home. Then once opened I have to read upstairs to ensure that Scott does not see me.
With only hours to go before I leave I mustered enough courage to speak to him.
Hearing my confession and the words that I would soon be united with an exotic Italian number was not easy for either of us.
I think he got some comfort from seeing the tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't tell him Id just peeled some onions.What hurt him most of all was the fact that Bianchi and I were going to be eventing together. Taking part in the MS 150 in 'America', with thousands of other bikes.
Obviously he would have heard of the MS 150, that's for sure.
His tyres are bound to be deflated when I get back.
Although I kept telling him that he is my trusty steed, insecurity is a difficult emotion to deal with, especially if you are an aluminium bike in a world full of Carbon beauties.
People are not much better either, men as well as women.Many years ago I was trying to help a friend out. I accompanied him to a local bar after work where he had fancied this girl who worked there. He wanted me to go with him as moral support and to mask his true motive. It was the very least I could do. With an obvious age difference between the two of us, I would often be mistaken as his benevolent uncle or dad, rather than his best buddy. He often played on this, which I felt was a little cruel.
My friend had apparently spoken to this barbiesque image a few times and was convinced that there was a mutual attraction. The bar had been busy with summer trade and when we walked in she acknowledged him with only a half hearted smile. I could not discern any obvious chemistry.
After an hour of staring gormlessly into space, whilst my friend preened himself, I was ready to go.
It was apparent that the only person who seemed to be receiving any attention was me, much to my friends annoyance, and my total embarrassment.
Eventually she approached him, making initial small talk, before verbally wounding him.
' Do you know your friend reminds me of that actor, Michael Douglas'He was gutted having just had his heart ripped out, I was surprised she was old enough to know who Michael Douglas was.
We left the bar shortly afterwards and although we are still great friends he has never asked me to drink with him again.
However the story was revisited a number of times as was the name of Michael Douglas .
During my Non cycling weekend, I had my girls Poppy and Daisy over to stay ( 10, 14 years). They are very independent now, choosing 'cyberspace' rather than 'Daytime Dad' as their nominated entertainment source.
I am not totally ignored though. There is definite interaction around feeding time, bed time, taxi service time, and opening the wallet time.
I do have one rule though. We have to have allocated 'family time'.
This usually consists of watching a film together.I spotted the action movie 'Romancing the stone' in the TV schedule.
Knowing that it featured 'Michael Douglas', I hurriedly ran upstairs to announce to my siblings that 'Dad' was featuring in the Sunday afternoon movie.
Daisy laughed and reminded me and Poppy that she had already seen 'Shrek' a million times.
I now knew what Scott felt like and allowed him back in the House.
Weekly Road Mileage 55 miles
Weekly Weight Loss (0 lbs)
Weekly Climbing feet 2,367 feet
Yearly Road Mileage 1,446 miles
Yearly Weight Loss (12 lbs)
Yearly Climbing 65,577 feet