Sunday, 23 August 2009


No riding today. No riding yesterday either. It is the weekend, and the Lord said something about rest. I can't burn the candle at both ends anymore. Hell, I can't even burn it at one end. I have had a sum total of 4 beers this weekend, and I felt like falling over each time I got past the second one. When I was working in London many years ago, I'd regularly have four pints at lunch, then go back to work, then go home and go for a run around Hyde Park, summer or winter. The soot in the air from the diesel fueled taxis was thick enough to give you a bad dose of black snot after each five mile run, but I could do a bunch of pints and then do a stack of miles.

Then I started opting for fewer miles and more pints and more curries, hence the small problem around my waistline that I am currently working on.

Today is prep day. All riding clothing is washed and dried. I have five business shirts to iron before bed time (although our office is relaxed and many people dress in jeans and T-shirts and the like, I still prefer the feel of a 100% cotton business shirt with a proper collar). The battery for my headlight is charged, the tyres have been pumped up and checked and the slack in the brake cables taken in.

Keys, wallet, phone, camera and other paraphernalia required for a day in the office has been collected and deposited in one central location, where it can be easily scooped up and packed away in the morning. Before I go to bed, I will take all the clothes for tomorrow out of the wardrobe and leave them in the office - that way, I can get changed and pack my stuff without bashing around the bedroom in the dark and waking J and the kids.

The bedside clock has been re-calibrated to Sydney time (Monkey got hold of it and set it to Monkey time, which would have had me climbing out of bed at 3:42am).

The foam pads in my helmet have been washed to remove the super-salty build up from weeks of head sweat. If I sweat too profusely, the sweat mingles with the salt in the foam pads and then a solution of ultra-brine runs down my forehead and into my eyes. That is something to be avoided.

All I have to do in the morning is reset the trip meter on the bike computer. It's reading 150km at the moment - the results of last week's rotations into town and back. I have to check the weather forecast for the week as well. I was asked during the week by a very fit looking bloke what I did if it rained. "Get wet", was my response. He smiled, and clapped me on the back. His wife looked aghast. It's nice to feel like part of the brotherhood at times.

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