King Of The Mountains

Back on my bike today. It's my first ride to work for over two weeks. Before I leave I have to find it under all the mud that was amassed during my off road excursion, down Nottingham's all new cycle route, with L on Tuesday. I give it a quick wipe down with a damp cloth, making sure the lights are clean. My tyre is still up.

I have a good ride, I feel fresh but not necessarily fit. I try and attack the hills by getting out the seat rather than trying to achieve everything without getting out the saddle. A tip from 'that' book.

Then I come across the chap on the commuter bike. He's going very slowly, so it's going to be incredibly hard to stay behind him. I'm sure it's a trap but still I fall for it and go whizzing by. Then I remember he was slow on the uphills, so I go for it on the climb out of Risley. I'm knackered by the top but daren't look behind as I power down the other side. So no time to dwell on taking the King Of The Mountains points as I push on to deal with the matter of the Hot Spot Sprint in Borrowash. Oops getting carried away there. By the time I look over my shoulder, as I go round a parked car in Borrowash, he is nowhere to be seen. Victory.

L's been talking to 'my friend' the rambling salesman at the bike shop about women specific design (WSD) mountain bikes. She's decided the only thing that will induce her to cycle more is mud. E.g. more cycle paths! Hmmm The trauma I had to go through to get her to the off road Duathlon she entered last year and even then she hated it.

Apparently everyone under 5' 7" should have a WSD, different angled seat posts and handle bars, shorter pedal shanks. All to do with offsetting the hips apparently. Hmmm he certainly talks a good bike.

Also have a good ride home. Just over 52 mins, which is not far off my PB.

Once I get home, I only have a time for a quick shower and a slice of Christmas cake before we need to get getting the bus back over to Derby. Tonight is the first, in what may be a short sequence, of 40th birthday parties as my friends and myself reach that mid-life crises age.

First however Daughter drops it on us that she is going out to a friends for an all-nighter and needs a lift. Typical. I run her there while L slips into something sexy for the party.

The party is good. It's good to catch up so many old friends. Old being a key word here as it is shocking to see how many of them look far older than the 40 years they have on the clock. Also it is amazing how fat some of them have got. They're obviously not all biking to work then. I'm assuming here that I still look twenty-one. Strangely the fat ones are not devouring the buffet but I am, unappetizing though most of it is. I've not had my tea yet and I've got calories to replace.

One of my oldest male friends turns up with his male partner which comes as rather a shock and a disappointment to some of the women present.

They have photos of the chap, whose birthday it is, all over the walls, documenting his past. One of which includes a school class photo from 1979, in which I feature. I was twelve at the time. Hmmm I have changed a touch since then.

4 pints of Tiger 4.2%.

All in all is it a good night.