Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Tuesday grind

It's only Tuesday, and I feel wrecked. Shouldn't have raced the old bugger on the way home.

Things started out well at 7.30 this morning. I passed this sculler on The Bay and thought to myself, "Better you than me". The coach had him doing starts. Oh, how I remember rowing training and starts. It's much more fun in an eight - with a powerful crew and a well-drilled start, the boat almost leaps out of the water when power is applied to the oars. The downside is that doing a start is about the most explosive use of energy this side of sprinting up a flight of stairs with a keg on your shoulder. No wonder my fat content back in my rowing days was in low single digits.


The start of Lilyfield Rd, showing that cycling is becoming a more popular option for getting to work. A few years ago, I'd approach this hill and there'd be no bikes on it and this time of the morning. This morning, there were 8 stacked up in front of me, more behind me and this is becoming typical. I didn't speed up and join the group on that hill - instead, I grouped up with the guys coming up behind me, and we ripped into town as a pack of 10 or so. I reckon if you flew over Lilyfield Rd from end to end at this time of day, you'd see a continuous string of cyclists heading into town - and quite a few coming back the other way (no idea where those people are going).


A few of the guys in my group. Four in front, another five behind me.


Like I said the other day, a 7.30am start is too early for most women - except this one. Most of us blokes went tearing past, which is why I am utterly knackered, and this woman is probably at home feeling quite relaxed and energetic. I really have to learn to slow down and not burn out so early in the week. Better get some oestrogen injections.


A few of us stacked up at the lights in Pyrmont. Note the bare arms and legs on some of these guys - it was 8 degrees at the time, and I was rugged up so much, I was sweating and steaming. I'm going to have to be brave one day and leave my jacket at home and adopt a vest and undershirt approach. Also note the sign on the pole which says "Left turn - beware of cyclists". The taxi dude at least can read, and is nice enough to let us pass before turning. Well, in fact he has to, because at these lights, there is a bike light - we get a green to go straight ahead whilst the cars get a red arrow. It's the only way to stop meat heads from wiping out bikes as they turn left.


The old guy on the way home. Grey hair, lean look - must have been in his 60's. Bastard rode like the wind though. I thought about overtaking for about 1/800th of a second, then just tucked in behind him and went with the flow.


Me and the geezer, in shadows. Very cool.

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