Hello there

This is my first Blog. Being a bit long in the tooth, means that I have to get used to this thing. But they say 40 is the new 20, so I guess as you read along with my life I will tell stories of drug use, casual sex, studying and rampant loss of common sense. Then again..Maybe not.

Im to old for drugs( unless the are Smart Drugs - more on that later), too smart for cheap sex( herpes anyone?), my studying is too dull even for bike fitness obsessed individuals ( Gym Instructor) and Im afraid that common sense has finally arrived at this age.

Thats ok. I really never enjoyed waking up at 6 am to blinding bright sun, crawling out from under a pile of laundry in my cars hatchback( where I parked on some side street to avoid driving home intoxicated) and checking to see if I took my custom made vampire fangs out of my mouth or swallowed them in a alcohol induced delerium.

Now days, Im more likely to be crawling out of bed at 5 am, to whizz off on my bike to work(a hour away), eating Hydrogine( look it up) than acid, and measuring out antioxidants like life depended on it( it does.)

The bike, or rather as we say here in Oz( means "ozstraya") cycle - is part if my life. Like love, one day you wake up and find you cant live without it, and like kids( or as I percieve the little buggers) finding yourself taking about cycling, to everyone, in great detail while their eyes glaze over and they wish devoutly for your imanent death.
But like Lance says, its not about the bike. Sure I have a sexy carbon beast I whip up hills, that cost more than any car Ive owned.But its only a tool.

Im ill. Or rather, I was ill. Im better now, for the most part. I still spend a hour every fortnight( thats every two weeks) in a doctors surgury getting chelation pumped into my arm.( IV of VitC- good stuff!).Im allergic as a result of immune system problems, to everything yummy. I spend a lot of time in bed. Big deal. Other people are starving, fighting wars and getting up off their deathbeds with worse problems than myself.

So the bike was the catalyst, to get up( or rather drag myself out of bed) and give it a go. Enough of this feeling sorry for myself and lamenting that I cant eat bad things( alcohol, chocolate, bread, cakes, lollies, tea and coffee, soy).

Its addictive, this cycling. Even out, wobbling like a new born colt on her first try at standing, hitting the pavemet( clip pedals) with your face and wiping off the blood is a challenge. Sometimes I have a hard time going up a tiny hill, as if it was Hors categorie - the heart montior at its peak. That moment, Its as meaningful as Lance hitting the Alp 'Huez pinnacle in the Tour.
Somebody else passes me, flying past me. No worrys, because to me- that little rise was someone elses mountain. And thats ok. Mountains will come soon enough. Thats what coaching yourself is all about. Looking at things in perspective.

namaste
CG