Monday

Monday. How did it become "chunder day"? I went to bed feeling fine. I woke up feeling fine. I had my usual small cup of coffee and a bit of toast (with 3 fruits marmalade) and rode off feeling fine. Five minutes later, I started retching for no reason. I didn't spew anything up, and I wasn't even riding hard - I was just coasting. My stomach simply objected to something or other. I think there are mornings when it just dislikes coffee with a dash of milk.

It happened later whilst waiting at a set of lights - I was standing there serenely, and next moment, I was doubled over the bike gagging and retching again. Nothing came up, but the chunder reflex was working overtime.

I made it into work ok, and about an hour later, started feeling like lightly toasted crap. The sweats, a headache, brain disengaged and mind adrift. I had a bad case of the sweats all day, and it had nothing to do with the unseasonably warm morning weather. I was considering jumping in a taxi and going home to bed.

The cure? Riding home in the wind and rain. I took it easy, partly because of the slick roads, but mostly because I left work feeling pretty dreadful. Half an hour later, after a good dose of fresh, cold air in the lungs and a bit of rain in the face, I was feeling 100%.

Now, to the twats of the day.

The first was a fellow cyclist who overtook me on a blind corner where there are signs asking cyclists to dismount due to the risk of collision. I never dismount, but I always get into low gear and idle around the corner like a granny. This prick overtook me, almost had a head on with a cyclist coming the other way, and then he did his damnest to stop me overtaking for the next few hundred yards (he pulled all sorts of Formula One blocking tactics to stay in front). We're not racing for a prize - if you are slower than the guy behind you, let him through.

What a knob. Not that I was altogether quick this morning due to the gut trouble, but you get the drift.

The second was the traffic controller on Hickson Rd. A car ad of some sort was being filmed, and half the road was blocked off. The traffic dude on my side was standing in the middle of the bike lane, so I had to swerve into the road to go around him. He told me to stay in the bike lane, because it was safer! Tool. If I had stayed in my lane, he would now be flat on his back with a tyre track across his face.