Snow

Last week in the snow was amazing. I had the bike out every day - dusted down the mtb and ploughed my way to work every day through the angry and scared motorists and stood side-by-side with the more die-hard graduates who walked to work from town. None of the support staff got to work leaving the carpark 12 inches or more deep in snow and one unfortunate gardener not knowing how fast to shovel snow. The boss ordered pizza delivery for lunch

Little Wendy, our secretarial support had never seen snow like this - being only 20 so we took her out to play snowball fights and we built a snow-woman with boobs and all. Ironic since she was constructed by 4 female engineers. Ed just had to add more snow to accentuate her physique. Wendy has never looked so alive, so fresh, so rosy - she spent the rest of the day complaining how it hurt when she breathed. I suppose crisp air and smoking don't mix so well.

On Sunday, TSK set out for some optimistic winter walking. With plans to do about 10 miles, we trudged up the hill to Outlying Village to the Grand pub. We found THE place to go sledging, with many little footprints to one side and a pure strip of shiny, icey thrilling ribbon winding down the gully path. I could hear the screams of children and adults still ringing through the trees in my imagination yet it was eerily quiet as we walked on up the slope, the rocks and tree roots now showing through the slithery temporary bob-sled run.

The top of the slope was a different matter. Gradually the bravery of the sled-riders petered out leaving one lonely line of footprints stretching out across the moorland. Much to our dismay, the lonely footprints didn't even have a dog and worse than that, the man's stride was longer than ours' - longer than mine, longer than TSK's. We started taking it in turns to follow the man's footsteps - 4 paces in his shoes was all I could manage, then 8 smaller steps of my own, hauling my boots out of theholes I had made and placing them forward - crashing through the windslab, making new holes for TSK to follow. Then it was his turn - out across the field, up the slope, onto a surprisingly rocky field, falling into tractor tracks upto the knee, down the lane, alongside the trees. Every hundred metres we stopped for a rest, a stretch. We arrived at the pub.

"I think it's impossible" she said when we asked for a table to dine. "We'll sit on a barstool", I pleaded. We got the table by the fire. No-one else in their wiltshire wellies and their black cardies and tweed skirts wanted to sit in a big leather arm chair and eat their dinner off a table that was too tall for the chair - except us. Happy to dry rucksacs and gaiters by the roaring flames and listen to tales of ponies and stables and children winning rosettes.

We managed about 4 miles in 4 hours. We drank alcohol and walked home down the road. This week I ache. I have heat pads slapped on the backs of my calfs and I'm hobbling around on my toes. I can't believe I used to do walks like this in Scotland up mountains for 8 hours or more. Oh well, what an awesome start to the walking season.

Snowy work place

With 15 cars waiting to park in a car park that was 12 inches under snow this morning, I felt decidedly smug to be on Dauntless.

Worst winter in 18 years

Today I renewed my love for Dauntless. What is a day today for, if not for mountain biking to work?

Much as I was tempted to ride all the bridlepaths to work, we slogged through the slush and the ice with the motorists. Much to my delight, one of the main throughfares to my workplace was half-blocked by temporary traffic lights meaning I could ride the whole length almost traffic-free on one side of the road or the other.

Brimble Hill was a less of a challenge than I thought as I span up the slushy tarmac in wheel ruts trying to ignore the motorists squeezing past next to me.

When I pulled into the office driveway, the sweet pristine white snow just begged me to turn right around and head out for a ride along the Ridgeway path. Sadly, though, I'm a grown up and off I go to work. Still, slightly tempted to head out for a half hour at lunchtime.

Levelling

Two trips to the gym on Thursday after I blogplained about being sick. 51 lengths of the pool (possibly a made-up number because I lost count) in the early afternoon, circuit training in the evening. It was my first attendance at circuit training. One minute of activity at each station before a lap of the room and onto the next bit of kit. As ever, I found push-ups difficult but that was nothing compared to skipping. Bloddy hell! When did I grow up and lose the ability to skip?

On Friday morning I was wasted but figured I better haul my ass into work since I went to the gym twice on Thursday. I lasted the day and completed the one very important activity. I wrote a letter to personnel who hastled me to sign-up to a job it took them a month to offer me and three months to confirm the payrise on (it was measly). I'm now annoyed I accepted the job and anxious about writing the letter.

Half of me wants to start job hunting. The other half wants to kick ass at the new job and show 'em all. But that would be so much effort...

Saturday - now Saturday saw the house turned upside down and reassembled as a haven of laundry-free, DIY-free, ski-ing-paraphenalia-free, I-can-open-the-door-to-every-room tranquility and this morning I finally finished tiling the last of the kitchen floor (just the bits around the edge to finish).

There is room to breathe.

20 Years of Being Rubbish

The National Championships came around in January. 6 weeks after the start of the agonising back pain and the cough and god knows what else. In truth, this cough has wiped out too many members of the club but I really didn't expect to come last. Yet with this face, it's fairly obvious what was going to happenIt didn't help that on the first lap, I found myself sandwiched between two other competitors. The gap closed and left me lying on my back in the mud. On the next lap, in exactly the same place, I was trying so hard I cycled into a bush and floundered again. Being rubbish.

The next week took me to Reading on the Saturday where I felt obliged to race to defend my silver medal position in the Wessex league. On a points basis, Lauren had taken my silver medal place but, if I rode and she didn't, I would be back in the running. So I slobbed my way round this...like this...
to achieve this...
I have to get some pretty wellies too really but Yay, I got beer! After 45 minutes of racing I realised I was feeling just fine. I raced every inch of the race, always catching someone infront of me and only letting one person get by me. If I'd felt like this last week at the nationals, I might've stood a chance of not being last.

The next day I woke at 6am and told TSK I had changed my mind about going up to Derby for the final National Trophy round. By 8am I was leafing through the programme for the day wondering if we could make it. I concluded that we could so, 5 hours later I found myself standing in a line-up with 20 others.

At least the Reading course was just soggy-muddy, the Derby course was gloopy-muddy and every turn of the wheel dragged clumpy handfulls of mud into the wheel to the point where it would not turn.

The strategy was developed in my mind to run anything that had any leaves on it. Because this was most of the course, the strategy worked and I had no trouble completing the running race since I didn't have to rely too much on the cycling muscles I used the day before.

The race flew by as I gradually passed two of the women I was racing with. I had a little bit of trouble with my gears. As the derailleur filled with mud it pushed the mechanism into my rear wheel in bottom gear but I coped with it so when TSK called to me to change bikes I ignored him feeling that a lighter bike covered in mud was better than a heavier bike covered in mud. The next lap I switched to bottom gear and behold, irrevocable damage was done. I shouldered the bike and ran about 250m to the pits to retreive the clean one.

I shouldn't have worried about the heavy bike because in its clean state it was a dream, like suddenly steel became titanium. All that mattered to me was the two ladies behind me had been lapped by the leaders and would therefore forever be still behind me and so I finished the last lap last and I crossed the line last - but not last of all.

This weekend we went skiing in Switzerland to get rid of the end of season blues. It worked wonders. Time spent with friends who make you laugh so hard your face and tummy hurt. TSK and Fi tried playing in powder. Brian fell over lots and we were derogatory about Tim.

Then I got home and got flu... 20 years of being rubbish. Let's see how long it takes me to get rid of this one.

Water Everywhere

The living room radiator emptied its contents all over the living room floor last night so we got up this morning to a puddle and a cold house.

By 10am when I had finished fixing the house, the swimming pool was closed so I burned some flex hours bumming about on the pC.

At 12 I was allowed back in the swimming pool and churned out 46 lengths and crawled almost all of them.

The day was slow but mercifully short. TSK got himself a new bike so I cooked dinner whilst he built it.

On the other hand, I can't remember when my cashflow was last in such a dire situation and I'm usually really careful with money. Spoiling people - that'll be the problem. Having too many lovely people in your life is a problem I can cope with.

Cold Park in winter

The crazy golf was busy. It's built from Cotswold stone - only the best for Swindon.


Me being as tall as trees


Bird watching - Tufted duck, Pochard and Smew.
And today I went racing for the first time in about 5 weeks. I coughed and I hacked my way around the course but DIDN'T get lapped by Claire and DID beat an Ironman (tho' it was his first race so I suppose we let him off since he kept falling off on the slippery corners).

If felt good to be back on the bike after such a break. We had a good bonding session yesterday during which I cleaned and fiddled and tuned and fitted a new chain. I have been wondering what the grinding noise is on my lowest gear then yesterday figured out I was running a 6-speed chain on an 8-speed block. Huragh, no more grinding. The new bike is perfect.

Now I need to add her to my home insurance after Sil's experiences.