Zachary one month on from some cruddy brain surgery I gets me butt back on the bike. Zippitydoodaa!

Tuesday Morning:

I’m not sure which is wonkier – me or the badly-in-need-of-a-service bike?

Okay, it’s me.. but the bike still needs a new headset (one that doesn’t self-steer) and work done on the rear wheel (add some spokes, true it, that kind of thing). Fuggit, I wanna ride!

Rolling onto the road I instantly feel at home. No, that’s utter horseshit. I feel awkward, weak, wobbly and my favourite word for my current condition – “wonky”.

To everyone else I’m sure I look just the same plus a new scar and bad hair (okay so the bad hair has always been there) but _I_ know something is slightly off. I’d say my vision is dodgy but I can see everything. It’s more a case of my eyes not focusing as quickly as they should and perhaps not being so sharp, unless I do a double-take-squint-thing. It’s like I’ve suddenly been given my eyes at age 40. It’s like riding while slightly pissed – not that I’ve ever done anything like that officer. After all that bitching and moaning I’d fired up a bit by half way and was feeling a bit more comfortable on the road. The time in was 38:25 for the 12k. Less than 20kph average, true, but I was heading into London, I was being purposely slow and I do tend to stop at red lights more than the locals! Also my bars prevent me getting some of those tight gaps between *scrape* that Merc and *grind* the Porsche 😉 That concludes the chapter on excuses. Please now turn the page.

Tuesday Evening:

I was going to wait for peak-hour to pass before leaving the office but a “mailbox migration” (where do they fly to, I wonder?) meant no computer for me. Damned if I’m staying at work twiddling my thumbs with no ‘net! Pity I actually had work to do..

On the bike and angry again, just like old times, sweet!

There were an ungodly number of cyclists clad in bright yellow that I let split the air for me (including one who seemed to have left his “30” race numbers on. Um..whoops.. I don’t know anyone who’s done that before.. doo do dooo..).

Most were on road bikes which I thought was odd. Where were they all during winter? Mary, John and Fatmah were out there riding in their high-heels, jeans and leather jackets (yes, John is a bit odd) but these roadies must’ve been in secret training sessions, choosing to wear out tyres on trainers rather than risk the damp. I thought the poms would laugh in the face of rain and cold? 🙂

Anyway, back to the yellow. Is it a roadie fashion here to wear feckin’ bright yellow? For a city with such high regard for personal grooming and self-image I ask: WTF? Yellow be bright, sure, but it’s ug-a-ly!

I still prefer my Safety Black(tm) ensemble, although it has been modified somewhat with the addition of some grey (gray?) rain protection. Anyhoo.. I felt better on the way home save for a severe lack of leg power and the sudden feeling I’d become asthmatic. Where the hell did all my oxygen go?!?!

I passed a lot of people and lots of yellow-clad roadies passed me. Main thing is: I’m alive to type this and I’m riding again. Sweet! 36:somefink.

Wednesday:

My bum hurts. Should I stop hanging out in ghey bars? Who said that? Okay so the saddle is cheap San Marco crap and I have a super-duper rare-ish ti/carbon Selle Italia beauty to swap on but, you know, I’m like.. fscking lazy.

I cain in this morning but get the same time as yesterday morning because I left 30min later and had a lot more traffic to deal with. I had to hug the aircon when I finally made it to the office because I was a little too toasty. Everyone loves a sweaty office worker.

The ride home (tonight) was quite a lot slower because 1) I am fscking tired! and 2) the traffic was moving quite slow due to the rain this evening. I shall sleep well tonight and repeat the process tomorrow.. 🙂