A conversation yesterday with family mentioned “the blog” and that nothing had been posted for a while. I am not sure why this happens. The blog is supposed to be a little bit about me and a whole lot about the bike. But for a million and one reasons the cycling has been lacking and the blog even more so. Do not get me wrong: I still love cycling, promote its use, and follow news feeds (which are often then sent to the wider world via Google+ and Twitter). But time, health, motivation, work, and family life are great excuses for not getting on the bike or posting something inane in this white space. However, to correlation between the lack of time yet the ability to still Facebook and Candy Crush somewhat goes to show that it’s focus, priorities, and motivation that are missing.
So today, with an hour to spare I look to the blog. Slightly modify its look, wade through the fellow bloggers’ links (some sites have died, some have – like me – last posted months and years ago), deleting, removing content that no longer works or is irrelevant, and updated the ‘current position’ – I had to: I am 8 lbs lighter than when I last updated. Then here I am. One month from the end of the year.
Missing all my goals, yet doing more miles than 2012 and fearing that my brother is already plotting for 2014 goals (that ain’t going to happen bro’). Who knows, if you are lucky there may be another post before the year is out.
See. I knew it. Luton taxi drivers do have the ability to overtake a cyclist in the manner prescribed by the highway code. Thank you guys.
As for WVM (White Van Man), you’ve got some catching up to do.
For those of you that didn’t notice there was a golden globe in the sky today. I wasn’t too sure what it was but there were people in the streets pointing (and squinting) at the sheet shouting “sun, sun, sun!” Crazy people. I haven’t seen the sun since the Great Summer of 2012 (sarcasm intended).
So what do I do? I seem to recall that this was a time where I would find some quiet (ish) English country road and meander meaninglessly to somewhere that sold coffee and cake. No. I run around after children before walking down to Dunstable Town Centre to see the St George’s Day celebrations (which are four days to early). I manage to convince the kids to ride, but Mrs OLN was less keen. Shanks’s pony it is then.
With one face-painting-cum-doodling tent, and one toy archery set, this was hardly every going to be a wild day, but it gave me a chance to lie on the grass where King Henry VIII (probably) once stood, drink cappuccino, and take in some radiation.
I hope that the sun comes back again soon.
I have been here before. Struggling to keep the pounds down and half-heartedly trying. But breaking back above the 13 stone window again this week was enough of a trigger to start doing something about it again. So here I am again. Blogging, eating (a little) less, doing the sit ups and squats thing, and rekindling the passion for cycling (or reacquainting my derrière with the saddle at least). I have done two rides: both roughly the same direction or loop of Dunstable, the first OK; the second, suffering with wind (both me and the weather). Neither really pretty rides. But enough to make me sweat.
Tonight I came back and completed 66 sit ups and the same number of squats. And now I drink water and head to bed.
Not a good week this one. Had a cause to go to the doctors’. Nothing alarming or life threatening, but another one of those visits that: a) reaffirms that you are getting older; and, b) gave the doctor a chance to repeat his mantra of “regular exercise, eat fruit, don’t smoke, don’t drink more than one unit of alcohol per day (a barrel is a unit, yes?)…”. So I put on my Internet Doctor cap and end up buying more fruit than is sensible from Asda. I spend the next three days of eating solely fruit. A kind of fruity detox. Day one was fine. Fruits good. All of these colours. It has got to be good for me.
Day two arrives. Not so appealing. I want “crunchy” (not to be confused with Crunchie). I am avoiding tea and coffee too. Only water or lemon water. My head hurts. I think it is craving caffeine. I want caffeine. I may have to kill someone.
Day three. I will kill someone soon. The whole of my body aches. Perhaps being an internet doctor is not my forte. I think I’m losing weight, but muscle weight. Calf muscles are not thanking me today. As soon as the three days has passed I feast. On toast. Odd, I know, but anything is better than soft fruit. Warm, crispy, toasted bread with a little spread. And a coffee. Welcome back body.
Over the weekend normal routines return. Coffee, wine, rollerblading, curry, karate, and an absence of cycling (not all at the same time). And this morning is weigh day. Back on the scales and the results are good. 1.6 lb down. Not as massive as it could have been, but one that sees the return to the realms of 12 stone something. I feel good and celebrate. With a pear.
…motivation! Lacking even when dressed up in £100 of Aldi cycle clothing (that’s a lot of layers), Cyclingplus buff hiding the shame, and enough flashing LED’s for a b-rate Chevvy Chase movie. The pow! I am ready to ride. Enjoying the darkness. Avoiding the cars. And heading into the wind and down hill to Eaton Bray. The mind was empty of any real thoughts and the legs just kept turning. By the time I head down the A5 in to Dunstable I am warm and happy to stand waiting for the lights to change.
So proud of my 10.2 miles, back home I do 71 squats, and 79 sit ups. I must be ill.