Been grounded this weekend, and a bank holiday weekend too. Friday night cycling home from work I got a cramp in my left calf, fairly near to home. But I didn't stop and stretch. The area I was cycling through is frankly scary and admitting vulnerability didnt' really seem like the best idea in the world so I kept going until I felt a little less exposed. Leg kept feeling crampy all evening and was joined by shin pain and cramp in toes for a bit. Saturday it felt OK during the day but Saturday night in bed the bloody leg was agony. Kept off the bike Sunday, kept off the bike Monday and prudence is keeping me off the bike tomorrow.
Using the downtime, I have completed an application form for Sustrans to become a volunteer ranger near me.
support-sustrans/volunteer-rangers
I'm very very excited about this. Looking forward to taking on a personal responsibility for the cycle path near to me. If they accept me of course. It would be good to have the authority / permission to actually do something physical about sorting out some of the problems I see. Way better than simply complaining. Start with sorting out over grown bits and pieces, and maybe one day move on to campaigning for bigger and better improvements. Such as the two Cyclists Dismount signs on the bike route near to me. They bug me.
Monday 30 May 2011
Saturday 28 May 2011
Stay Safe
The cry of cyclists to each other following another cycling fatality on the roads is Stay Safe. And we try. An erstwhile work colleague of mine died on Thursday while riding home with a friend on their bikes. The jungle drums have it that he was hit from behind by a car with a teenage driver.
Friday was a day in shock for the office. Rob was my age and leaves a wife and child. He was one of nature's good guys, time for everyone. He was a very experienced cyclist, one that taught others how to do it safely and well, and definitely not on for a testosterone rush. The rumour has it the car didn't see him. Rob was over 6 foot and did not run to leanness. Hard to miss in the office, why so hard to miss on the road.
It's frightening to less skilful riders like myself to realise that someone who would be reasonably described as one of the safest guys on the road could die, just like that, on the scene. It would presumably take some shunt to kill a giant like Rob on the spot. He always seemed solid.
If I hadn't cycled to work Friday when the news broke and therefore had limited choices about getting on the bike home it's highly probable I'd be thinking more than just twice about commuting on the bike again. If it could happen to Rob then surely it's more than likely to happen to me. So, stay safe out there people, stay safe.
Friday was a day in shock for the office. Rob was my age and leaves a wife and child. He was one of nature's good guys, time for everyone. He was a very experienced cyclist, one that taught others how to do it safely and well, and definitely not on for a testosterone rush. The rumour has it the car didn't see him. Rob was over 6 foot and did not run to leanness. Hard to miss in the office, why so hard to miss on the road.
It's frightening to less skilful riders like myself to realise that someone who would be reasonably described as one of the safest guys on the road could die, just like that, on the scene. It would presumably take some shunt to kill a giant like Rob on the spot. He always seemed solid.
If I hadn't cycled to work Friday when the news broke and therefore had limited choices about getting on the bike home it's highly probable I'd be thinking more than just twice about commuting on the bike again. If it could happen to Rob then surely it's more than likely to happen to me. So, stay safe out there people, stay safe.
Friday 27 May 2011
Fuelling strategy
Bearing in mind my attempts to keep weight under control; at the very least to maintain the kilos I'm at, and preferably continue to make a safe and gradual progression towards a slimmer more svelte Alison, I reckon I'm fairly functional at fuelling. My commuter ride to work is always done on an empty stomach; exercise at early hours makes my stomach feel rough whatever I do, and experience has taught me empty is better than full, and even then every now and then I get stomach cramps on the way to work.
Any other ride though I take a more considered approach to energy levels. Breakfast is fibre and carbohydrate and not protein and fat, and it is a greater quantity than I might for a sedentary day - you've got to be prepared. I'm also really good at eating on the trail, chewy bars being a bit of a staple diet, but only a couple of mouthfuls at a time, just enough to keep me ticking over. Lunch on the trail is also spread out into a little and often. I know a couple of rolls is going to be about right but wouldn't eat them both at the same time, just keep the input regular and try my best to keep blood sugar levels constant through the day.
It's just kind of great to have the confidence to know I'm not going to hit a wall, and eating isn't going to make me blow up like a balloon.
Any other ride though I take a more considered approach to energy levels. Breakfast is fibre and carbohydrate and not protein and fat, and it is a greater quantity than I might for a sedentary day - you've got to be prepared. I'm also really good at eating on the trail, chewy bars being a bit of a staple diet, but only a couple of mouthfuls at a time, just enough to keep me ticking over. Lunch on the trail is also spread out into a little and often. I know a couple of rolls is going to be about right but wouldn't eat them both at the same time, just keep the input regular and try my best to keep blood sugar levels constant through the day.
It's just kind of great to have the confidence to know I'm not going to hit a wall, and eating isn't going to make me blow up like a balloon.
Thursday 26 May 2011
Down sizing
Now it's clear to me I'm wired differently from some folk and what works for me is just plain bonkers to a lot of other people. A year ago I came off anti-depressants and cut myself some slack with regards to things such as weight gain, telling myself if that's what it was going to take to get myself through that period of adjustment then so be it and I would deal with any subsequent weight increase ... later. At an unnamed moment in the future.
At the end of last year / early this year; I can't be sure, the time had come to deal with the weight increase. It had not been substantial but was certainly enough to affect my morale going forwards. The bike, or in particular the spinning classes on the Watt bike have been a mainstay of weight loss, although these days the week day commuter bike rides are not about the body image, they are about getting fitter to enjoy my true love, the mountain bike.
It is worth reflecting though on how the period of weight loss has gone. My method was simplicity itself. Move more, eat less. Nothing fancy about that at all as far as physiology goes. Things I've realised it really took were
1. Change. Acknowledgment that for the situation to change I had to make changes, and this isn't make a change then trundle on back to usual with the change having been a one off, one day of doing exercise or one day of eating more, this needed to be a hard earned, sustained change over a longer period. I had to accept that just thinking I was on a diet was not the same as eating less.
2. Do what you need to do, not what you want to do. I have a tendency to get home from work, tell myself I'm tired, tell myself it's raining or cold or that I simply don't want to do anything other than get tea, sit on the settee then have a bath and go to bed. What I want doesn't necessarily make me happy either; what I want can leave me sat there, bored and lonely. What I need is to walk to the library, to go to the allotment, to do a short bike ride, to do something, get out there, be productive or at least energetic.
3. Make only really small changes, and make them stick, then make some more small changes and make them stick too, then some other small changes. Building up all the little changes over time since the start of this year now sees me eating breakfast every day, and a reasonably nutritious one at that. No snacking happens in the morning now, I'm full until lunchtime. I have learned to really enjoy enormous quantities of salad in wraps or sandwiches or just as part of a main meal. Beginning to do more exercise built up and up until I was doing 7 hours a week minimum by April. I have a four o'clock snack at work, and often it's an apple. I don't drink alcohol on "school nights" any more and not so much at weekends. Lots of little changes really add up.
And let's not forget the bike in all this. 100 hours is a normal month, from January onwards, and the plan is to double that by the end of summer. The bike is not an instrument of torture and it certainly doesn't feel like the kind of exercise you do because you feel you have to, the weekends of mountain biking are a joy and not a chore, and there's a lot to be said for that.
At the end of last year / early this year; I can't be sure, the time had come to deal with the weight increase. It had not been substantial but was certainly enough to affect my morale going forwards. The bike, or in particular the spinning classes on the Watt bike have been a mainstay of weight loss, although these days the week day commuter bike rides are not about the body image, they are about getting fitter to enjoy my true love, the mountain bike.
It is worth reflecting though on how the period of weight loss has gone. My method was simplicity itself. Move more, eat less. Nothing fancy about that at all as far as physiology goes. Things I've realised it really took were
1. Change. Acknowledgment that for the situation to change I had to make changes, and this isn't make a change then trundle on back to usual with the change having been a one off, one day of doing exercise or one day of eating more, this needed to be a hard earned, sustained change over a longer period. I had to accept that just thinking I was on a diet was not the same as eating less.
2. Do what you need to do, not what you want to do. I have a tendency to get home from work, tell myself I'm tired, tell myself it's raining or cold or that I simply don't want to do anything other than get tea, sit on the settee then have a bath and go to bed. What I want doesn't necessarily make me happy either; what I want can leave me sat there, bored and lonely. What I need is to walk to the library, to go to the allotment, to do a short bike ride, to do something, get out there, be productive or at least energetic.
3. Make only really small changes, and make them stick, then make some more small changes and make them stick too, then some other small changes. Building up all the little changes over time since the start of this year now sees me eating breakfast every day, and a reasonably nutritious one at that. No snacking happens in the morning now, I'm full until lunchtime. I have learned to really enjoy enormous quantities of salad in wraps or sandwiches or just as part of a main meal. Beginning to do more exercise built up and up until I was doing 7 hours a week minimum by April. I have a four o'clock snack at work, and often it's an apple. I don't drink alcohol on "school nights" any more and not so much at weekends. Lots of little changes really add up.
And let's not forget the bike in all this. 100 hours is a normal month, from January onwards, and the plan is to double that by the end of summer. The bike is not an instrument of torture and it certainly doesn't feel like the kind of exercise you do because you feel you have to, the weekends of mountain biking are a joy and not a chore, and there's a lot to be said for that.
Being brave
Do something each day that scares you, they say. Whoever they might be. Generally I laugh scornfully at such a statement and respond "what, just one thing?". So I am very much aware of my tendencies to be a wuss. It's been really really windy recently.
This simply won't do said the nasty parent state inside me (Berne's transactional analysis model has a lot to answer for http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transactional_analysis). So after much internal wrangling on Tuesday night I got the bike out, just to see what it felt like to be a little out of control and at risk of wind blown diversions from the straight and narrow. Just a short trip, a killing two birds with one stone thing (there we go, another of those common phrases), by doing the two mile trip to the allotment on the bike. Wanting the trip to be a success, I dressed with care, even donning the winter bike tights (it's nearly June for pity's sake), and a windproof softshell. And it was fine. Turns out the commuter bike is built like a tank and it would take one hell of a wind to blow something that weight off track. Job done.
So, Wednesday did see me back on the bike again on the work commute, possibly over dressed for the time of year, but I got out there, and I did it, and nobody died.
This simply won't do said the nasty parent state inside me (Berne's transactional analysis model has a lot to answer for http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transactional_analysis). So after much internal wrangling on Tuesday night I got the bike out, just to see what it felt like to be a little out of control and at risk of wind blown diversions from the straight and narrow. Just a short trip, a killing two birds with one stone thing (there we go, another of those common phrases), by doing the two mile trip to the allotment on the bike. Wanting the trip to be a success, I dressed with care, even donning the winter bike tights (it's nearly June for pity's sake), and a windproof softshell. And it was fine. Turns out the commuter bike is built like a tank and it would take one hell of a wind to blow something that weight off track. Job done.
So, Wednesday did see me back on the bike again on the work commute, possibly over dressed for the time of year, but I got out there, and I did it, and nobody died.
Wednesday 25 May 2011
Girls Talk
Is cycling a feminist issue I wonder. Mulling over in my over crowded head space some girly issues associated with the bicycle.
Current musing is as a result of a few things - reading an article in the Guardian and reading a snippet or two about Cycletta, and following a clicky link or two. For convenience, the thought provoking stuff here:
http://www.101wankers.com/
http://www.guardian.co.uk/women-only-cycling-events
http://www.cycletta.co.uk/
There is a lot I don't understand. I don't understand the woman writing the 101wankers site, where she describes incidents where men have shouted stuff at her or taken other unusual actions while she's on the bike. Not wanting to follow the recent Ken Clarke comments regarding rape ... I really don't get why she's experiencing these problems, and wonder indeed if it's something she herself is doing, drawing attention to herself in some negative fashion. I just don't understand because it's something that's never been a teeny weeny part of my cycling experience, and I'm chalking up around 100 miles a month on average so far this year so have reasonable potential exposure to all kinds of situations, city centre cars & pedestrians, drunks etc. I really am putting myself out there.
I also don't understand Cycletta. I don't know if it's competitive, participation, political lobbying, I don't really understand the purpose. My experience of mass events attended by women is restricted to the Race for Life events, and I know it's not a social opportunity; you're never going to find a potential riding partner for future in a mass of other people intent on riding their bikes. I'm a little scared if it is like Race for Life that it'll be totally impossible to make progress, being held behind dawdling participators and forced into an uncomfortable position of over crowding which my bike handling skills are not up to. If it's more competitive then I'd also be in the wrong place, not owning a suitable bike for such occasions and definitely not having bunch skills. Added to that I'd be too slow. If it's political then I'd never take part without a clear understanding of what the aim is and what it's standing up for. Oh, and it's £35 to go out for a bike ride. That's just stupid.
For me, cycling fulfils maybe three entirely separate needs. It can be for fitness when I go out on my own, keeping my own pace and my own company and having complete freedom to do my own thing. It can be to get from A to B, again at my own pace in my own company and with the option of going for fitness as well as simply making the distance pass as quickly as I reasonably can. The third need is the one I use it least often for, to fulfil a social need. Going out with friends on a ride is social not for fitness as you can't really do everything you can on your own in a group, there are other restrictions and you need to focus on the social element or come away from the ride disappointed. Whichever need, I can be sure Cycletta fulfils none of them.
I am being drawn towards the somewhat disconcerting conclusion that I'm not representative of women.
Current musing is as a result of a few things - reading an article in the Guardian and reading a snippet or two about Cycletta, and following a clicky link or two. For convenience, the thought provoking stuff here:
http://www.101wankers.com/
http://www.guardian.co.uk/women-only-cycling-events
http://www.cycletta.co.uk/
There is a lot I don't understand. I don't understand the woman writing the 101wankers site, where she describes incidents where men have shouted stuff at her or taken other unusual actions while she's on the bike. Not wanting to follow the recent Ken Clarke comments regarding rape ... I really don't get why she's experiencing these problems, and wonder indeed if it's something she herself is doing, drawing attention to herself in some negative fashion. I just don't understand because it's something that's never been a teeny weeny part of my cycling experience, and I'm chalking up around 100 miles a month on average so far this year so have reasonable potential exposure to all kinds of situations, city centre cars & pedestrians, drunks etc. I really am putting myself out there.
I also don't understand Cycletta. I don't know if it's competitive, participation, political lobbying, I don't really understand the purpose. My experience of mass events attended by women is restricted to the Race for Life events, and I know it's not a social opportunity; you're never going to find a potential riding partner for future in a mass of other people intent on riding their bikes. I'm a little scared if it is like Race for Life that it'll be totally impossible to make progress, being held behind dawdling participators and forced into an uncomfortable position of over crowding which my bike handling skills are not up to. If it's more competitive then I'd also be in the wrong place, not owning a suitable bike for such occasions and definitely not having bunch skills. Added to that I'd be too slow. If it's political then I'd never take part without a clear understanding of what the aim is and what it's standing up for. Oh, and it's £35 to go out for a bike ride. That's just stupid.
For me, cycling fulfils maybe three entirely separate needs. It can be for fitness when I go out on my own, keeping my own pace and my own company and having complete freedom to do my own thing. It can be to get from A to B, again at my own pace in my own company and with the option of going for fitness as well as simply making the distance pass as quickly as I reasonably can. The third need is the one I use it least often for, to fulfil a social need. Going out with friends on a ride is social not for fitness as you can't really do everything you can on your own in a group, there are other restrictions and you need to focus on the social element or come away from the ride disappointed. Whichever need, I can be sure Cycletta fulfils none of them.
I am being drawn towards the somewhat disconcerting conclusion that I'm not representative of women.
Tuesday 24 May 2011
Dorothy flight
Once again I'm being a feardy cat. I have mental pictures of the gale force winds lifting me up as per Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. This picture has not been enhanced by reading people's twitter entries suggesting they are being physically lifted from their bikes and dumped on the road. It's not pretty out there.
I am a wuss when it comes to weather. It takes a lot to get me out on the bike in a) rain, b) wind, c) darkess, d) weather that looks like it might produce any of the previous 3 possibilities. No matter how many times I tell myself I won't dissolve, it doesn't help. No matter how much I prepare myself with bomb proof lights with long life batteries, it doesn't help. Telling myself I will get blown into the path of a passing lorry doesn't form the best mental preparation for the journey either. So I'm grounded.
Added to my weather woes, I have committed a guilty unfaithful act, and done 5 days kayaking in the last week. My shoulder is so sore I can't use the mouse with my right arm, and in fact typing is causing some slight twinges. Wonder how much the bike riding would be affected ...
Grounded.
I am a wuss when it comes to weather. It takes a lot to get me out on the bike in a) rain, b) wind, c) darkess, d) weather that looks like it might produce any of the previous 3 possibilities. No matter how many times I tell myself I won't dissolve, it doesn't help. No matter how much I prepare myself with bomb proof lights with long life batteries, it doesn't help. Telling myself I will get blown into the path of a passing lorry doesn't form the best mental preparation for the journey either. So I'm grounded.
Added to my weather woes, I have committed a guilty unfaithful act, and done 5 days kayaking in the last week. My shoulder is so sore I can't use the mouse with my right arm, and in fact typing is causing some slight twinges. Wonder how much the bike riding would be affected ...
Grounded.
Monday 23 May 2011
Welsh Ways
I'm a city girl. Never clearer to me than when I attempted a little off road bike route planning near to Capel Curig using only the Ordnance Survey map for the area. I'm OK at the old map reading, and I'm really really good at making sure I adhere to the letter of the law where bike riding is concerned. So, I carefully plan a route using only bridleways and minor roads, checking on the contours, checking on the distance so I don't over reach myself given the time available. The first four miles of the route go well, then I reach my overshoot point. I love that I have planned enough to realise when I've gone too far, basic nav skills in action. So I check the map, and retrace my steps and find the turn I should have taken. Lift the bike over a fence and walk it to the road over marsh and slabs of uneven wobbly rock and over a couple of streams. At this point, planning is not looking too hot if I'm honest.
On reaching the road I cross to the bridleway marked, and I'm on my way again. Five minutes later and there's a signpost pointing up a rocky and boggy hillside. Not even enough markings to look to this city girl like a footpath let alone a bridleway. Check the map, check the compass, get off the bike and begin to push up the hill. Pass a walker who confirms I'm on the right track. Keep going and going and get to a dry stone wall and one of those stiles incorporating 4 steps. Turn back. Terrain so interesting I couldn't even manage the descent in the saddle. Turns out in Wales bridleways are not quite the wide surfaces they are around the cities of the North West. Interesting.
Escape route on the mountain bike in the rain was the A5. Zoomingly fabulous descent four miles back to Capel Curig and the ride is over.
On reaching the road I cross to the bridleway marked, and I'm on my way again. Five minutes later and there's a signpost pointing up a rocky and boggy hillside. Not even enough markings to look to this city girl like a footpath let alone a bridleway. Check the map, check the compass, get off the bike and begin to push up the hill. Pass a walker who confirms I'm on the right track. Keep going and going and get to a dry stone wall and one of those stiles incorporating 4 steps. Turn back. Terrain so interesting I couldn't even manage the descent in the saddle. Turns out in Wales bridleways are not quite the wide surfaces they are around the cities of the North West. Interesting.
Escape route on the mountain bike in the rain was the A5. Zoomingly fabulous descent four miles back to Capel Curig and the ride is over.
Sunday 22 May 2011
Comfort zone
It is a big brave move for me to go somewhere new to me without company and get out on the mountain bike. All manner of things go through my head. First thing is will I actually find the place; I am not renowned for my car navigation skills. Second concern normally relates to things like toilets, car parking, followed by a dose of worry about the weather. Third concern is how to bail out - if I don't know the area, I don't have a map (ordnance survey maps don't really cover trail centre forest tracks particularly well); if I have a mechanical I can't resolve at the side of the trail will I be able to get myself on foot back to the start. Fourth concern relates to falling off; will the centre be busy enough that if I whack my head or break my collar bone someone will come along soon to help me out, and if not will there be phone reception. My brain loves to find fear where others might discover excitement.
So despite all the above limiting factors on my teeny rodent brain filled with confusion and fear of the big scary world, I found myself working out the drive to get to Coed y Brenin trail centre. Turned out it was just two roads but 50 minutes drive from where I was staying. Simples. A5, A470, what's to go wrong. And indeed nothing did go wrong. Car parking was spacious, pay and display not bad, and the toilets were a thing you can only dream of, incorporating also showers, a cafe, a visitor centre with trail maps and a bike shop. Signage was huge and bold, and options clear. I picked my route, and I set off.
Not a day to fall off I felt, given that I was alone in the big dark woods. The first singletrack section therefore presented me with problems, rocky technical climbing is not my forte, and indeed I have been known to topple over on such terrain before. I soon found I had become the mistress of the foot dab, and made my way up the winding hill, and then along the swooping descent. Bike seemed to be sluggish and handling slighty sloppy, and on arrival at the wide forest road post descent it became clear what had happened. Puncture. Rear tyre.
So this was interesting. Bike upside down on the grass verge, tyre levers, new inner tube and pump all out of the bag, and I set to work. Quick release and disc brakes are a little piece of heaven in these circumstances. Twist, release, lift and out comes the wheel. A couple of lads rode past, and nodded at me. I smiled and got on with the job. Another group of lads passed, not even eye contact. It's kind of refreshing to find this mainly male environment is not sexist, boy bikers don't feel they need to stop to help a perfectly competent and well equipped woman to deal with something as straight forward as a puncture. Job soon done, and my self confidence soaring as I have managed to cope with the most common problem alone. Suddenly I know I can do this, I can go out alone to unknown terrain and I will survive.
So despite all the above limiting factors on my teeny rodent brain filled with confusion and fear of the big scary world, I found myself working out the drive to get to Coed y Brenin trail centre. Turned out it was just two roads but 50 minutes drive from where I was staying. Simples. A5, A470, what's to go wrong. And indeed nothing did go wrong. Car parking was spacious, pay and display not bad, and the toilets were a thing you can only dream of, incorporating also showers, a cafe, a visitor centre with trail maps and a bike shop. Signage was huge and bold, and options clear. I picked my route, and I set off.
Not a day to fall off I felt, given that I was alone in the big dark woods. The first singletrack section therefore presented me with problems, rocky technical climbing is not my forte, and indeed I have been known to topple over on such terrain before. I soon found I had become the mistress of the foot dab, and made my way up the winding hill, and then along the swooping descent. Bike seemed to be sluggish and handling slighty sloppy, and on arrival at the wide forest road post descent it became clear what had happened. Puncture. Rear tyre.
So this was interesting. Bike upside down on the grass verge, tyre levers, new inner tube and pump all out of the bag, and I set to work. Quick release and disc brakes are a little piece of heaven in these circumstances. Twist, release, lift and out comes the wheel. A couple of lads rode past, and nodded at me. I smiled and got on with the job. Another group of lads passed, not even eye contact. It's kind of refreshing to find this mainly male environment is not sexist, boy bikers don't feel they need to stop to help a perfectly competent and well equipped woman to deal with something as straight forward as a puncture. Job soon done, and my self confidence soaring as I have managed to cope with the most common problem alone. Suddenly I know I can do this, I can go out alone to unknown terrain and I will survive.
Saturday 14 May 2011
The Rules
As far as I can see the only rules which apply to me on the bike are those of the highways, and I am, indeed a stickler for these. I won't cycle on a footpath, only a bridleway or highway or other legitimate route and have a strong tendency to carry OS maps and a compass and check and double check. I freak out if fellow cyclists try to lead me astray along a footpath and have been known to get off and walk the bike for stretches to deal with this. Don't get me started on the subject of lighting. My views on red lights have already been made clear.
Other than that, I refuse to allow peer pressure to dictate whether I'm in lycra or in baggy clothing, and just don't care when folk comment at my mountain bike peak on the helmet when I'm road commuting. It's all about fashion and just so much garbage. Provided my clothes are fit for purpose, and for the weather, it's all so much blah blah blah as far as I'm concerned.
This attitude, however, doesn't stop me getting some good old fashioned enjoyment from those defending the tradition and pride of the old school road rider. Herewith, the rules: http://www.velominati.com/blog/the-rules/. These tickle the hell out of me and in those world weary moments you'll often hear the words "rule 5" issue from my gasping mouth.
Other than that, I refuse to allow peer pressure to dictate whether I'm in lycra or in baggy clothing, and just don't care when folk comment at my mountain bike peak on the helmet when I'm road commuting. It's all about fashion and just so much garbage. Provided my clothes are fit for purpose, and for the weather, it's all so much blah blah blah as far as I'm concerned.
This attitude, however, doesn't stop me getting some good old fashioned enjoyment from those defending the tradition and pride of the old school road rider. Herewith, the rules: http://www.velominati.com/blog/the-rules/. These tickle the hell out of me and in those world weary moments you'll often hear the words "rule 5" issue from my gasping mouth.
Thursday 12 May 2011
Thursday Fail
Sigh. I'm sure this wouldn't have happened to me 20 years ago! Hmm, mind you 20 years ago I was more interested in boys and beer for it to even have been an issue. Thursdays seem to have become my traditional fail day. I will cycle in to work on Tuesday and Wednesday and have the intention of looking favourably at the bike on the Thursday morning but instead I look at the bike and grab the car keys.
What is weird is I seem to wake on Thursdays with a stuffy nose and ear ache. Surely as a youth I would have gone all gorilla hard on it and said I won't let it hold me back, I will do as I planned. But as an adult frankly it's just not worth it. There will generally speaking be another day when I can get on the bike, and it's not really like I'm missing something, and there's always the anxiety that by riding through the pain will actually make me fall proper ill by the weekend. And weekends are important. This is why the Thursday Fail is very much tongue in cheek and allowed to happen.
It's not all about the bike, it's all about the weekend.
What is weird is I seem to wake on Thursdays with a stuffy nose and ear ache. Surely as a youth I would have gone all gorilla hard on it and said I won't let it hold me back, I will do as I planned. But as an adult frankly it's just not worth it. There will generally speaking be another day when I can get on the bike, and it's not really like I'm missing something, and there's always the anxiety that by riding through the pain will actually make me fall proper ill by the weekend. And weekends are important. This is why the Thursday Fail is very much tongue in cheek and allowed to happen.
It's not all about the bike, it's all about the weekend.
Wednesday 11 May 2011
The Game
So, it's not just me that makes the cycle commute into an adrenaline generating, lungs pumping, heart rate moving with anticipation and not just exercise and brain moving into stealthy panther mode as I cast a calculating eye up the road ahead.
http://www.itsnotarace.org/
This tickled the hell out of me. Not just an admission that We All Do It, but indeed a system, a calculator and numbers game. Sheer beauty and joy.
In the food chain calculation (FCN) I come out as an 11. Briefly the lower your number the more serious and credible a cyclist you are, and your scalp is there for the taking of those further down the chain, those such as I with the higher numbers. I almost liked that it removes the gender and age differences, placing us all on an equal status as simple Cyclists. That's liberating, we're all Cyclists, and the things which hold us apart are our budgets, perceptions and willingness to either spend money or look daft. Looking daft is also up for individual perception. To some, to wear Lycra is to look daft. To lycra wearers, panniers may be frowned upon. It's a whole world of joyous differences to be celebrated.
I am an 11 because my bike isn't super duper in appearance. It has a mudguard and no drop handle bars. I also use panniers. I don't wear lycra. These all push me down the chain giving me so many more targets to go at. My regret is that in the last two days commutes I haven't had a scalp in sight. This is going to be Fun.
http://www.itsnotarace.org/
This tickled the hell out of me. Not just an admission that We All Do It, but indeed a system, a calculator and numbers game. Sheer beauty and joy.
In the food chain calculation (FCN) I come out as an 11. Briefly the lower your number the more serious and credible a cyclist you are, and your scalp is there for the taking of those further down the chain, those such as I with the higher numbers. I almost liked that it removes the gender and age differences, placing us all on an equal status as simple Cyclists. That's liberating, we're all Cyclists, and the things which hold us apart are our budgets, perceptions and willingness to either spend money or look daft. Looking daft is also up for individual perception. To some, to wear Lycra is to look daft. To lycra wearers, panniers may be frowned upon. It's a whole world of joyous differences to be celebrated.
I am an 11 because my bike isn't super duper in appearance. It has a mudguard and no drop handle bars. I also use panniers. I don't wear lycra. These all push me down the chain giving me so many more targets to go at. My regret is that in the last two days commutes I haven't had a scalp in sight. This is going to be Fun.
Tuesday 10 May 2011
Road kill
Cycling accidents, particularly on the road involving other vehicles and where injury or fatality occurs are emotive. Where a rider dies then there's an outpouring of feeling from those who feel themselves to be in the brother hood / sister hood of cycling. A case of there but for the grace of god go I. I can't, won't and don't compare myself and the cycling I do to the professionals where it's not just a different league, but a whole different activity / sport. Maybe I just know too much, firstly about how very different a professional cyclist is to me, how for them it's a job, not a hobby, it's not just an obsession to those who make it their career. It's a passion, an obsession, a gift, a talent, dedication, commitment, motivation and full time bloody hard work. A world apart from my gentle pedaling. Secondly I know how it feels to have your husband die.
Seeing the cycling world react to the death in service of a rider in the Giro d'Italia yesterday has left me feeling uncomfortable. The death of a young man in the peak of fitness is a tragedy, a shame and a sadness. But I wouldn't for one moment intrude on the grieving of those who love him and who will miss him, not just momentarily but for days, weeks and years to come. I wouldn't presume to believe that any empty condolence I can send, or any sympathy I feel will be of any comfort at all to them. It seems to me that feeling sad at a distance is respectful, but putting twitter expressions out on the world wide web is false and designed simply to draw attention to the sender, not meant to be of true support to those who have suffered this devastating loss.
I am sorry he died, and I am sorry his girlfriend is living through this pain, and sorry their child will never know its father. It makes me sad but nothing I can say or do will change a thing.
This incident doesn't make me change my cycling habits. Others are saying stay safe, and they can't bring themselves to go out on their bike. I'm not a rider in that league or that sport. I commute, and don't need a death on the road to remind me that there are hazards and I need to look out for my own safety.
Seeing the cycling world react to the death in service of a rider in the Giro d'Italia yesterday has left me feeling uncomfortable. The death of a young man in the peak of fitness is a tragedy, a shame and a sadness. But I wouldn't for one moment intrude on the grieving of those who love him and who will miss him, not just momentarily but for days, weeks and years to come. I wouldn't presume to believe that any empty condolence I can send, or any sympathy I feel will be of any comfort at all to them. It seems to me that feeling sad at a distance is respectful, but putting twitter expressions out on the world wide web is false and designed simply to draw attention to the sender, not meant to be of true support to those who have suffered this devastating loss.
I am sorry he died, and I am sorry his girlfriend is living through this pain, and sorry their child will never know its father. It makes me sad but nothing I can say or do will change a thing.
This incident doesn't make me change my cycling habits. Others are saying stay safe, and they can't bring themselves to go out on their bike. I'm not a rider in that league or that sport. I commute, and don't need a death on the road to remind me that there are hazards and I need to look out for my own safety.
Monday 9 May 2011
Tyre aid
So, having had the hybrid bike for 8 - 10 years now, and given the increased amount of use it's getting, maybe, methinks, it's time to treat it (and me) to some new tyres. It's on the original tyres and I can't fail to notice the fact that although there's a trace of tread, they are now pretty much slicks. Sometimes cornering can be a little interesting with a weird sensation that the bike and tyre are attempting to part company. Besides which, my mum bought new tyres, and if she's getting new playthings so am I.
Apparently the days of my youth where you simply went to the Local Bike Shop (back then Bob Addy's cycles, Charter Place, Watford) and bought the only tyres they sold in the size you wanted and slapped them on your bike are gone. Now, not only have the LBSs disappeared, but they have been replaced on the high street with somewhat more specialist dealers who offer choice and words like "performance" have crept into the tyre market. Evans, for example, a lovely place where I can spend hours looking at shiny gadgets and studying different kinds of oil is a bewildering blokey place with too much choice and too little information.
When it comes down to it, I thought I knew what I wanted from a tyre. Tread and robustness were priorities. Research then in the burgeoning online shops such as Wiggle and ChainReactionCycles then demonstrated to me that I needed to be considering other factors. Apparently. Customer reviews were suggesting some tyres were "hard to fit". Not something I ever thought to be a consideration. Surely a tyre the right size and three tyre levers used appropriately was a recipe for a trouble free fitting. Apparently not. Then there were folding tyres, tyres for winter and tyres for summer (again, Ehh?).
Not wishing to embarrass myself by seeking commuter bike old burd advice on a cycling website I naturally deviated to the UK Climbing website where there is a friendly helpful section for eager outdoor types who also like to cycle. The choices are now narrowing down. Schwalbe Marathons may well be purchased. Hope they are easy to fit.
Apparently the days of my youth where you simply went to the Local Bike Shop (back then Bob Addy's cycles, Charter Place, Watford) and bought the only tyres they sold in the size you wanted and slapped them on your bike are gone. Now, not only have the LBSs disappeared, but they have been replaced on the high street with somewhat more specialist dealers who offer choice and words like "performance" have crept into the tyre market. Evans, for example, a lovely place where I can spend hours looking at shiny gadgets and studying different kinds of oil is a bewildering blokey place with too much choice and too little information.
When it comes down to it, I thought I knew what I wanted from a tyre. Tread and robustness were priorities. Research then in the burgeoning online shops such as Wiggle and ChainReactionCycles then demonstrated to me that I needed to be considering other factors. Apparently. Customer reviews were suggesting some tyres were "hard to fit". Not something I ever thought to be a consideration. Surely a tyre the right size and three tyre levers used appropriately was a recipe for a trouble free fitting. Apparently not. Then there were folding tyres, tyres for winter and tyres for summer (again, Ehh?).
Not wishing to embarrass myself by seeking commuter bike old burd advice on a cycling website I naturally deviated to the UK Climbing website where there is a friendly helpful section for eager outdoor types who also like to cycle. The choices are now narrowing down. Schwalbe Marathons may well be purchased. Hope they are easy to fit.
Friday 6 May 2011
Testing Times
I will never quite understand men, and men on bikes never, for sure. Wednesday's commute in on the bike held some testosterone confusion for me. Let's face it, I am, as billed, an old burd on a bike. I exude this, even from behind. The bike you see, has a mud guard and a back rack. I have a very upright position, and am generally speaking not clothed in lycra. Hair pokes out from underneath a very lack lustre helmet. I look the part, nothing to threaten a healthy young male's status here, no need indeed to prove anything against me.
So then, why overtake me just to slow down and have me slipstream, often free wheeling? I don't do that. I don't race up to someone, overtake and then slow down. Going round a slower moving rider is something I give in fact great consideration to. Firstly, can I do this safely, without putting myself too far into the line of traffic, and yet without going so near to the other cyclist that I could potentially throw them off balance. One of Wednesday's testosterone brigade went so close to me his jacket brushed my hand. Secondly, I look at their pace, my pace, and use my knowledge of the route to know if an over taking maneuver is possibly pointless - i.e. are we about to go up a hill, is there going to be a procession of traffic lights and no point in a rush?
But apparently I am a considerate and careful rider. And a Burd. It wouldn't be such a rant worthy topic if it only happened once in a blue moon, but three times on Wednesday lycra clad boys with drop handled bar bikes went past me and sat in front of me. One of them pretty much in the way as it then slowed my journey down. I can only assume it's the unseasonal sunshine and the testosterone. Poor men. What they suffer.
So then, why overtake me just to slow down and have me slipstream, often free wheeling? I don't do that. I don't race up to someone, overtake and then slow down. Going round a slower moving rider is something I give in fact great consideration to. Firstly, can I do this safely, without putting myself too far into the line of traffic, and yet without going so near to the other cyclist that I could potentially throw them off balance. One of Wednesday's testosterone brigade went so close to me his jacket brushed my hand. Secondly, I look at their pace, my pace, and use my knowledge of the route to know if an over taking maneuver is possibly pointless - i.e. are we about to go up a hill, is there going to be a procession of traffic lights and no point in a rush?
But apparently I am a considerate and careful rider. And a Burd. It wouldn't be such a rant worthy topic if it only happened once in a blue moon, but three times on Wednesday lycra clad boys with drop handled bar bikes went past me and sat in front of me. One of them pretty much in the way as it then slowed my journey down. I can only assume it's the unseasonal sunshine and the testosterone. Poor men. What they suffer.
Thursday 5 May 2011
Man Down
I had thoroughly intended cycling to work today but a few days of cycling has taken its toll. Monday was the 20 mile MTB ride, Tuesday the ride to the theatre and back, and Wednesday ride to work, then to book club and then home. This morning I looked at the bike in horror as I attempted the ascent of my stairs at home bearing my early morning cup of tea. I picked up the car keys instead, and with feelings of shame and guilt went about my business.
My drive to work this morning took me along the first 5 miles of my cycling commute route, chosen because it's relatively traffic free on the whole and the main hold ups are the traffic lights. Picture my dismay at finding myself queued in traffic at 07:50 this morning in a very lengthy chain of cars disappearing into the visible distance. The queue, however, suddenly began to move and we had achieved a reasonable consistent pace, even if only 20mph much improved on the initial stop start, one car through the lights at a time progress.
As the traffic speed returned to normal I realised what the delay had been for. There at the side of the road was a white transit van, it's male driver making agitated mobile phone conversation, and a 4X4 with a female driver on the pavement talking to and holding steady a cyclist, still in his helmet but in recovery position and covered in a blanket. Another cyclist was stood by, and two bikes, one mangled were on the ground. There was no side road here, just an entrance to a plumbers yard. I made a judgement on the spot of the likely people at fault and the innocent victims. So clear in my head, without any facts at all, was I that I was so angry my eyes were full of tears. Angry that the cyclist had been taken out. Impressed also that he was clearly talking and impressed that to the assistant had not tried to remove his helmet, leaving that kind of thing for the experts. The ambulance hadn't even arrived.
There but for the grace of <insert deity of choice> go I. I cycle that road, straight, wide and without potholes. That could have been me.
My drive to work this morning took me along the first 5 miles of my cycling commute route, chosen because it's relatively traffic free on the whole and the main hold ups are the traffic lights. Picture my dismay at finding myself queued in traffic at 07:50 this morning in a very lengthy chain of cars disappearing into the visible distance. The queue, however, suddenly began to move and we had achieved a reasonable consistent pace, even if only 20mph much improved on the initial stop start, one car through the lights at a time progress.
As the traffic speed returned to normal I realised what the delay had been for. There at the side of the road was a white transit van, it's male driver making agitated mobile phone conversation, and a 4X4 with a female driver on the pavement talking to and holding steady a cyclist, still in his helmet but in recovery position and covered in a blanket. Another cyclist was stood by, and two bikes, one mangled were on the ground. There was no side road here, just an entrance to a plumbers yard. I made a judgement on the spot of the likely people at fault and the innocent victims. So clear in my head, without any facts at all, was I that I was so angry my eyes were full of tears. Angry that the cyclist had been taken out. Impressed also that he was clearly talking and impressed that to the assistant had not tried to remove his helmet, leaving that kind of thing for the experts. The ambulance hadn't even arrived.
There but for the grace of <insert deity of choice> go I. I cycle that road, straight, wide and without potholes. That could have been me.
Wednesday 4 May 2011
No Parking
Last night I cycled to the Lowry centre to be part of an audience with Andrew Motion, the previous poet laureate. Last time I went to the Lowry the bike parking facilities seemed a little scarce, to say the least. A venue which between three theatres must seat over a thousand seemed to be catered for by just four bike parking devices. This kind of thing:
What I hate about these is that although, after a fashion, they hold your bike upright, just look how far away the frame is from the piece of street furniture. Given that the most secure type of bike lock is the U lock which is of limited length there is no way you can use it to secure the bike to the non moveable object. Last time I visited the Lowry I put the bike sideways on to the V shaped device (it wasn't part of a long stretch of them like the picture) and tethered it with the U lock that way. I go a bit security crazy, and have two cable type locks I use to lock both wheels onto the frame too. They are quick release wheels and it would be most inconvenient to return to the bike and find them gone.
But much to my joy and delight in the middle of a mini roundabout, the Lowry have these brand new devices -
Don't look much, do they, and of course the Lowry ones were shinier and much more curvy and aesthetic. So much better to use. Bike nestles up against the frame and you can attach any lock, anywhere. This, however is not the bees knees of bike parking as I found this morning ...
Just look at these bad boys we've had installed at work. I suspect our model is a step up from these, with cover in a cylinder and bike racks to the left and right. Actually left my bike locked in this today instead of smuggling it into the dingy motorbike store.
Parking just gets better and better.
What I hate about these is that although, after a fashion, they hold your bike upright, just look how far away the frame is from the piece of street furniture. Given that the most secure type of bike lock is the U lock which is of limited length there is no way you can use it to secure the bike to the non moveable object. Last time I visited the Lowry I put the bike sideways on to the V shaped device (it wasn't part of a long stretch of them like the picture) and tethered it with the U lock that way. I go a bit security crazy, and have two cable type locks I use to lock both wheels onto the frame too. They are quick release wheels and it would be most inconvenient to return to the bike and find them gone.
But much to my joy and delight in the middle of a mini roundabout, the Lowry have these brand new devices -
Don't look much, do they, and of course the Lowry ones were shinier and much more curvy and aesthetic. So much better to use. Bike nestles up against the frame and you can attach any lock, anywhere. This, however is not the bees knees of bike parking as I found this morning ...
Parking just gets better and better.
Monday 2 May 2011
Wonderful feeling
Who will buy this beautiful morning, such a sky you never did see. That would be what I was singing as I trundled along the moorland bridleway West of Belmont going over Rivington Moor. Glorious day, albeit so windy that a lane described by my favourite mountain bike trail writer, Henry Tindell as a "gentle but insidious rise" gave rise to some alarm as strong gusts of wind buffetted me from side to side.
A glorious morning it was for a ride. Ten miles drive to the starting point at Smithills near Bolton, and a 20 mile circuit which took me 2 hours 40. Only really got lost the once. The ride took me up through a wooded road alongside a stream where the old mill cottages had their own walkways going over the stream from their front garden to the road. Then along a bridleway, past a farm and heading out to the road. Some road riding swooping uphills and downhills, up a mental steep but short hill at Belmont. Very pleased to see at this point a signpost to public toilets, and having located these at the far corner of a field with not a soul in sight ... took the bike in with me. I take security just a little too seriously sometimes. Up, and up, and up along the road, past a bundle of fire engines checking out the moorland fires on Anglezarke, and onto a crazy paving style bridleway. Forget trying to pick a line, there was no line, just bumpity bumpity bumpity and avoid keeping your arse in contact with the saddle if you want to be able to sit down tonight. Twas wonderful fun. Bouncy bouncy bouncy and you come out to a panorama which makes the whole thing worth it.
The view duly admired, round the next corner this lovely building survives, Pike Cottage.
Not a clue what it's purpose is other than to provide good foreground for photographs for the millions of walkers.
Although from the cottage it was a descent, it was mighty tough, tough indeed. Pedalling like a woman possessed just to keep the momentum going over the rocky pathway, but also hampered on a downhill by the almighty head wind. It was a very very blowy day.
Lovely route, may do it again ... but then again there are so many other possibilities crying out to be tackled ...
A glorious morning it was for a ride. Ten miles drive to the starting point at Smithills near Bolton, and a 20 mile circuit which took me 2 hours 40. Only really got lost the once. The ride took me up through a wooded road alongside a stream where the old mill cottages had their own walkways going over the stream from their front garden to the road. Then along a bridleway, past a farm and heading out to the road. Some road riding swooping uphills and downhills, up a mental steep but short hill at Belmont. Very pleased to see at this point a signpost to public toilets, and having located these at the far corner of a field with not a soul in sight ... took the bike in with me. I take security just a little too seriously sometimes. Up, and up, and up along the road, past a bundle of fire engines checking out the moorland fires on Anglezarke, and onto a crazy paving style bridleway. Forget trying to pick a line, there was no line, just bumpity bumpity bumpity and avoid keeping your arse in contact with the saddle if you want to be able to sit down tonight. Twas wonderful fun. Bouncy bouncy bouncy and you come out to a panorama which makes the whole thing worth it.
The view duly admired, round the next corner this lovely building survives, Pike Cottage.
Not a clue what it's purpose is other than to provide good foreground for photographs for the millions of walkers.
Although from the cottage it was a descent, it was mighty tough, tough indeed. Pedalling like a woman possessed just to keep the momentum going over the rocky pathway, but also hampered on a downhill by the almighty head wind. It was a very very blowy day.
Lovely route, may do it again ... but then again there are so many other possibilities crying out to be tackled ...
Sunday 1 May 2011
Dress Sense
One of the great things about the hybrid bike is that I don't feel some kind of misguided peer pressure to affect cycling clothing. I can sling on a t-shirt of any variety and a pair of 3/4 length trousers (with cycling shorts for comfort underneath) and just head out. I don't feel the need to match specialist gear to a specialist bike in the way I do the mountain bike, just get out there in civvies. Makes a spontaneous or indeed covert bike ride entirely possible and speedy. Great thing about this bike too is that I feel it's somehow OK to not go for a serious ride, but with an hour of time on my hands get out there for a spin, and an hour is fine because this is not "serious" riding but leisure spinning or more often, simply transport. So trotted out the bike on Thursday afternoon at about 1:45 knowing I needed to leave home in the car at 3pm to head off to North Wales.
The advantage of knowing you only have an hour (I built in some time to shower afterwards) is that you can chose to hit the pedals hard, get the lungs gasping in a short space of time, safe in the knowledge you only have an hour, and how much damage and pain can you inflict upon yourself in that time, truly? Freedom too of not carrying a rucksack or a pannier, as all you really need for such a short ride is a teeny saddle pack complete with tyre levers, spare inner tube and teeny tiny mini pump. Freedom can be easy.
Checking my yellowing bruises nearly daily but have reached the conclusion that attendance at next week's christening will have to be in a maxi dress. My legs look like I have been beaten.
The advantage of knowing you only have an hour (I built in some time to shower afterwards) is that you can chose to hit the pedals hard, get the lungs gasping in a short space of time, safe in the knowledge you only have an hour, and how much damage and pain can you inflict upon yourself in that time, truly? Freedom too of not carrying a rucksack or a pannier, as all you really need for such a short ride is a teeny saddle pack complete with tyre levers, spare inner tube and teeny tiny mini pump. Freedom can be easy.
Checking my yellowing bruises nearly daily but have reached the conclusion that attendance at next week's christening will have to be in a maxi dress. My legs look like I have been beaten.
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