I went to the LBS yesterday. The man , whom I contacted several weeks ago, to share rides, has a new sign.
Oh its cute.
'Le Peloton'
Come share the ride 2- -25 km, more when group gets fitter.
Guy was ok. In fact he seemd desperate for anyone to ride with. He said, as I recall - it will be nice to have someone to talk to, or um not talk to. I said fine by me.
I told him to give me a call when he went out again.
He hasnt. This makes me wonder, is it guy sport manners to call back? Because a chick would have called.
Is it because the same reason no one will sit next to me on the bus( I look wierd, tired or hostile - the last being the intense stare you get from outdated glasses. Need some new ones, broke the newest pair. But whom am I kidding, no one will sit next to me , anyhow. Even with new glasses.Being that I am freak, who wears all black and reads big funny books on the bus. Plus sleeps the whole way, which people tend to find creepy.)
Is it because I dress in all black, all the time, head to toe?Or is it because I live in Canberra, which is full of zombified public servants?
Really. They ARE zombies. I once got on a public bus, mid summer, 40 out. About 45 on bus( like 102).NO windows open!! Mid afternoon! Everyone was too afraid of making a scene opening them.So of course, I walk on and say 'jesus christ! Its like 45degrees on here! Why are the windows closed( breaking the rule, no one speaks on buses, unless your either a teen, old people, poor white trash or wierdos).
So, I start opening windows.
What wierds ME out, is that no one - not one person, follows suit. In fact they all stare ahead, trying frantically to ignore me. So I start leaning over past people( breaking another rule, do not invade peoples space) to open more windows.
I mean , its REALLY hot. Im even sweating, which t dont do unless it hits 47 or so( about three second before everone bursts into flames).
Then I break the last rule( do not speak to passengers, on any pretext) 'what are you - zombies?!!!'
I swear , people could have been moulded from plasticine. Their faces did not even MOVE.
Creepy. And the thing IM the wierdo!!
So I am not sure if Im supposed to call this guy back or not.
So I decide, apon seeing the poster, yeah I ll give him a call. Then I notice, he wants to leave for a group ride, in winter, when it is about -2 to 2 o AT 7AM!!!?? WTF?
Not even the group rides( except really old retired people who seem to be well upholstered seem to ride in winter morning rides).
Is he out of his fucking mind? Maybe hes a fat guy and has no idea that riding at that time, means, you can tfeel you rhands after 20 mins. Perhaps he means, to ride 10 km, in about 15 min then cafe stop, carbo load on belgian waffles and stuff and then ride 10 km more.
Seriously, I dont know how people can do this. Im a scrawny gym bunny, but even if I myself, started chowing down on that crap , I;d be the size of a house in one month. How do they work it off?
I did however, fanasize that hes that Cippolini clone I see riding by now and then. I dont mean, by handsome, I mean the guy wears a zebra striped winter roadie jacket. How, uh , god I cant even find the words for it. Its quite a site( and I adore zebra striped things, but this makes him look like hes going to go ride on Team Van Halen 80's reunion or something. It reminds me of white sunglasses. It scares me frankly.
I didnt even look at his bike, thats how arresting this jacket was!!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Health - hitting VO 2 max!
Had spin class the other day. Worked my ass off. ( It needs some working off, since I quit spin class, it went from elite racer to average ( well smaller than MOST )looking. I worked hard for that bum, only to see it hiding( in its tight gym bunny perfection) below what I like to call my 'second' bottom.
Usually, I dont hit Vo2 max, because when your virally fatigued - your Heart rate wont rise.You feel as if you already RODE that mountain, but legs wont go so to speak.
So this was prime.
Near collapse, dripping with sweat( and I dont sweat much even in summer), I stayed there most likely several minutes. It hurt!! Heart felt like it was going hell for clappers and it was hard to get oxygen into my lungs. It was great!!!
Plus this was the day I wore my new red top, new tri shorts, stripey arm warmers and US Postal hat - so not onyl was I beating the crap out of myself, I looked funny too.
This seems to be a new point in recovery.
I knew I d get back to this point( I left it about 7 months , feeling like hell and thinking 10 years of gym fitness, with only about 6 months off with a vacation here and there- plus did this all with CF. Time to sit around and eat cookies for a while. Fyck this imaginary race training.)
Well, let me tell you. VO2 max feels like viral fatigue. So all those months and years spent, totally washed out in pain with every exertion is familar to me.In fact, now that I know it isnt fatigue but exertion, I am ready to go and regularly kick the crap out of myself several times a week.
Sweet.
Usually, I dont hit Vo2 max, because when your virally fatigued - your Heart rate wont rise.You feel as if you already RODE that mountain, but legs wont go so to speak.
So this was prime.
Near collapse, dripping with sweat( and I dont sweat much even in summer), I stayed there most likely several minutes. It hurt!! Heart felt like it was going hell for clappers and it was hard to get oxygen into my lungs. It was great!!!
Plus this was the day I wore my new red top, new tri shorts, stripey arm warmers and US Postal hat - so not onyl was I beating the crap out of myself, I looked funny too.
This seems to be a new point in recovery.
I knew I d get back to this point( I left it about 7 months , feeling like hell and thinking 10 years of gym fitness, with only about 6 months off with a vacation here and there- plus did this all with CF. Time to sit around and eat cookies for a while. Fyck this imaginary race training.)
Well, let me tell you. VO2 max feels like viral fatigue. So all those months and years spent, totally washed out in pain with every exertion is familar to me.In fact, now that I know it isnt fatigue but exertion, I am ready to go and regularly kick the crap out of myself several times a week.
Sweet.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Its cold, kill me.
Yes its Saturday again, and a whole week has passed with only one ride.
This would be indeed shameful,had I not worked all week sick with Chrinic fatigue and that its bloody cold.
Yes, parts of Oz do get cold- in fact two parts- Tasmania and Canberra. If you look at a mapm you notice how close we are to the Artic circle( or is that Anartica, uh ...). Meaning that I took a ride a night ago and wore this:
merino t-neck
merino jumper
winter jacket
winter gloves
longs
winter socks
The ride was nice for the first 15 min until my hands went numn and my feet. At this rate, I am going to resemble a black snowman, if I wear the amount of clothes I need, to leave at 6 am in the pitch black morning to commute.
Its horrifying. I had to stop cycling in the day, to keep from getting skin cancer( we have no ozone) when Im older - which would stop me from cycling. (And if I cant ride 90 km a a day, when retired, whats the point of living?! ) If you had a look at the old guys who trundle around Oz, in their signature old aussie guy outfit of short sleeve safari jackets, shorts, long socks and business shoes - with faces that look like they have the mark of cain( circa Gorbachov), a pizza special 'cancer delight' or simply dottted with white bandages here and there , hiding the recent efforts of their surgeons to fix them up, giving them a resemblance to Michael Jackson.( Dont hope for links, Ive never been taught!)
So I was riding to work in the cool morning, missing the sun( which is about 100 metres away from the goround here - meaninh you just throw meat on the barbie in the afternoon, no need for charcoal, it will burnt o crisp just being exposed).
Now that the cool of the morning has turned to the freezing cold of the morning( meaning I'll arrive both sweaty, hot and chilled, like Ive been microwaved)Im fucked.
Means that I have to start spin class again.
Not that it doesnt work. I had my first race November last year( a 'fun race'meaning full of jolly fat ladies with baskets on their bikes, and far, far ahead some golden gazelles riding at light speed. ) I did well, a 20 km race( about 15 miles) in 20 .2 minutes - coming in 365 out of 986 women. Not bad for someone who cant run to the end of the street on bad days.
But they changed the timetables on the buses this year. So to trainI have to leave work at 4 pm. Arrive at 445. Train with weights until 615, then class for a hour, then sit in a sauna until 745, to get home at 815, in time to eat , wash and go to bed to get up at 6 am. Ok for one day but seeing as I work on my feet all day , moving heavy things and generally doing grunt work( I am a visual merchandiser at a major dept store) - hours of working out even for a healthy person is going to be hard. Despite my good attitude to illness in general( ignore it until I drop), its not going to happen, unless I feel like sitting out half the year in bed, having bombarded my system with so many free radicals from over exercise, I collapse with CF.
Its very fustrating. I have the will to get up at 5 am , ride 45 min to work, a hour home( slightly uphill) or gym it for 2 and half hours, the days I dont ride- and I simply cannot.
I reckon, I'd be a great rider by now, if my body hadnt piked out on me.
But, could be worse. Could have cancer.
I could hook up the indoor trainer and watch the Tour( yet again) on the wall projector. Thsi involves retuning my threshhold of boring up from ' exploding things' to ' gnats in brownian motion'.
Im going to have to decide soon. I have workplacement July, August and September - which will mean (training at the gym, to whip fat ladies in shape) a extra hour a day working. Where to fit in the bike?
Once October comes, theer temp will rise from screaming when you get out of bed nakesd when the heater has gone off, to merely getting a bit blue around the nether parts. Then school and worktraining done, I can ride to and from work, collapsing every night at having gone 38 km a day, with a rest every now and then to attend gym to vainly try to increase my leg size.
Why? Well, having been confined to bed many time, its better than waiting to get worse. Id much rather swear to myself as I take 20 min to coax warmth out of my 40 year old knees and curse the day I was born, as comp techs and public servant Freds, fresh from sitting down all day, zip past me up the inclines making me feel as if I am going backwards.
Now thats living:D
This would be indeed shameful,had I not worked all week sick with Chrinic fatigue and that its bloody cold.
Yes, parts of Oz do get cold- in fact two parts- Tasmania and Canberra. If you look at a mapm you notice how close we are to the Artic circle( or is that Anartica, uh ...). Meaning that I took a ride a night ago and wore this:
merino t-neck
merino jumper
winter jacket
winter gloves
longs
winter socks
The ride was nice for the first 15 min until my hands went numn and my feet. At this rate, I am going to resemble a black snowman, if I wear the amount of clothes I need, to leave at 6 am in the pitch black morning to commute.
Its horrifying. I had to stop cycling in the day, to keep from getting skin cancer( we have no ozone) when Im older - which would stop me from cycling. (And if I cant ride 90 km a a day, when retired, whats the point of living?! ) If you had a look at the old guys who trundle around Oz, in their signature old aussie guy outfit of short sleeve safari jackets, shorts, long socks and business shoes - with faces that look like they have the mark of cain( circa Gorbachov), a pizza special 'cancer delight' or simply dottted with white bandages here and there , hiding the recent efforts of their surgeons to fix them up, giving them a resemblance to Michael Jackson.( Dont hope for links, Ive never been taught!)
So I was riding to work in the cool morning, missing the sun( which is about 100 metres away from the goround here - meaninh you just throw meat on the barbie in the afternoon, no need for charcoal, it will burnt o crisp just being exposed).
Now that the cool of the morning has turned to the freezing cold of the morning( meaning I'll arrive both sweaty, hot and chilled, like Ive been microwaved)Im fucked.
Means that I have to start spin class again.
Not that it doesnt work. I had my first race November last year( a 'fun race'meaning full of jolly fat ladies with baskets on their bikes, and far, far ahead some golden gazelles riding at light speed. ) I did well, a 20 km race( about 15 miles) in 20 .2 minutes - coming in 365 out of 986 women. Not bad for someone who cant run to the end of the street on bad days.
But they changed the timetables on the buses this year. So to trainI have to leave work at 4 pm. Arrive at 445. Train with weights until 615, then class for a hour, then sit in a sauna until 745, to get home at 815, in time to eat , wash and go to bed to get up at 6 am. Ok for one day but seeing as I work on my feet all day , moving heavy things and generally doing grunt work( I am a visual merchandiser at a major dept store) - hours of working out even for a healthy person is going to be hard. Despite my good attitude to illness in general( ignore it until I drop), its not going to happen, unless I feel like sitting out half the year in bed, having bombarded my system with so many free radicals from over exercise, I collapse with CF.
Its very fustrating. I have the will to get up at 5 am , ride 45 min to work, a hour home( slightly uphill) or gym it for 2 and half hours, the days I dont ride- and I simply cannot.
I reckon, I'd be a great rider by now, if my body hadnt piked out on me.
But, could be worse. Could have cancer.
I could hook up the indoor trainer and watch the Tour( yet again) on the wall projector. Thsi involves retuning my threshhold of boring up from ' exploding things' to ' gnats in brownian motion'.
Im going to have to decide soon. I have workplacement July, August and September - which will mean (training at the gym, to whip fat ladies in shape) a extra hour a day working. Where to fit in the bike?
Once October comes, theer temp will rise from screaming when you get out of bed nakesd when the heater has gone off, to merely getting a bit blue around the nether parts. Then school and worktraining done, I can ride to and from work, collapsing every night at having gone 38 km a day, with a rest every now and then to attend gym to vainly try to increase my leg size.
Why? Well, having been confined to bed many time, its better than waiting to get worse. Id much rather swear to myself as I take 20 min to coax warmth out of my 40 year old knees and curse the day I was born, as comp techs and public servant Freds, fresh from sitting down all day, zip past me up the inclines making me feel as if I am going backwards.
Now thats living:D
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Bike mechanics.
I rode to the big bike shop, sometime after I got my beautiful first bike from them.
I went to see the mechs, to fix some part or another.
It was freezing cold and about ahour ride. I had never ridden that far, and was still pretty ill. I had to wear about 6 layers , just to keep from shivering in the early morning. I planned to stay at friends house for the day. They being artists, have no heating. My friend who I visit, being a artist owns no warm clothes, except what he wears on his own self.
So proudly I wheeled my bike into the holy of holys, bike shop repair place, pannier lumpy and bulging with jumper I had peeled off as I warmed up. ( even with 12 % body fat, you DO warm up after a half hour or so!)
The mech proceded to look at my bike and indeed myself, with critical eyes. Whats with all the clothes( as they tried to escape from the bag, as I searched for the CC).? Why are you wearing so many ? Thats stupid . All you need is a pair of shorts , a jersey and a light jacket( it was 10o that morning).
Hmm. Big , strong, muscled out man. Metabolism most likely hyped up due to his daily regeim of 90 km ride, filled full of carb cereal goodness.( This was before I could eat quinoa and was forced at that point , due to immune problems, subist on veggies, fruit , potaoes, cheese and honey - thusly suffering a lack of quick fueled carb goodness, which warms you up in the morning and thusly, moved about as fast as koalas due to low caloric content.)
There was I, puny( I mean SMALL - 42 kilos, 5'3 - thats scary), hollow cheeked and somewhat put out.
Why would anyone tell me that I should or should not be cold? Was he stupid? Anyone with a basic understanding of human anatomy knows that women dont put on as much muscle, as men therefore suffer from the cold. I had about as much muscle as say, a banana. Clad in lycra. you could see every ridge and bone. I looked rather like I was ready to do the Hors Category hills.
But that was ok, I figure.
So then he proceded to insult my bike!!
Your bike is ok, but your brakes are shit. You ll have to replace them in time( yeah, I agree now having experienced the buttery goodness of Orbea Onix shifting pleasure). Etc.
Then it turns out I rode 22 km with the wheel lever open ,oop. I amazed that the thing stayed on. But then I hadnt been going all that fast !!
So, first big ride out of bed and hopefully , riding away from decline into invalidism and subsequent ruin of life etc.
My bike is shit. My brakes are crap. Parts will need to be ordered. Im wearing too many clothes, and obviously am stupid. Why ride?!!
I had no iea at that time that bike mechs are notorious for critical judgements. Luckily, Im used to being insulted( I work in retail) so paid very little notice.
Now days, I'm muscular, I own any amount of riding clothes, my new bike is a sleek carbon beauty with brakes that shift like a caress. I can ride 70 km and I could care less if I look like the stay puff marshallow man, as long as I can still move my arms. I know I am getting better.
Take that , bike mech.
I went to see the mechs, to fix some part or another.
It was freezing cold and about ahour ride. I had never ridden that far, and was still pretty ill. I had to wear about 6 layers , just to keep from shivering in the early morning. I planned to stay at friends house for the day. They being artists, have no heating. My friend who I visit, being a artist owns no warm clothes, except what he wears on his own self.
So proudly I wheeled my bike into the holy of holys, bike shop repair place, pannier lumpy and bulging with jumper I had peeled off as I warmed up. ( even with 12 % body fat, you DO warm up after a half hour or so!)
The mech proceded to look at my bike and indeed myself, with critical eyes. Whats with all the clothes( as they tried to escape from the bag, as I searched for the CC).? Why are you wearing so many ? Thats stupid . All you need is a pair of shorts , a jersey and a light jacket( it was 10o that morning).
Hmm. Big , strong, muscled out man. Metabolism most likely hyped up due to his daily regeim of 90 km ride, filled full of carb cereal goodness.( This was before I could eat quinoa and was forced at that point , due to immune problems, subist on veggies, fruit , potaoes, cheese and honey - thusly suffering a lack of quick fueled carb goodness, which warms you up in the morning and thusly, moved about as fast as koalas due to low caloric content.)
There was I, puny( I mean SMALL - 42 kilos, 5'3 - thats scary), hollow cheeked and somewhat put out.
Why would anyone tell me that I should or should not be cold? Was he stupid? Anyone with a basic understanding of human anatomy knows that women dont put on as much muscle, as men therefore suffer from the cold. I had about as much muscle as say, a banana. Clad in lycra. you could see every ridge and bone. I looked rather like I was ready to do the Hors Category hills.
But that was ok, I figure.
So then he proceded to insult my bike!!
Your bike is ok, but your brakes are shit. You ll have to replace them in time( yeah, I agree now having experienced the buttery goodness of Orbea Onix shifting pleasure). Etc.
Then it turns out I rode 22 km with the wheel lever open ,oop. I amazed that the thing stayed on. But then I hadnt been going all that fast !!
So, first big ride out of bed and hopefully , riding away from decline into invalidism and subsequent ruin of life etc.
My bike is shit. My brakes are crap. Parts will need to be ordered. Im wearing too many clothes, and obviously am stupid. Why ride?!!
I had no iea at that time that bike mechs are notorious for critical judgements. Luckily, Im used to being insulted( I work in retail) so paid very little notice.
Now days, I'm muscular, I own any amount of riding clothes, my new bike is a sleek carbon beauty with brakes that shift like a caress. I can ride 70 km and I could care less if I look like the stay puff marshallow man, as long as I can still move my arms. I know I am getting better.
Take that , bike mech.
Rained out.
I missed the group ride today. I dont go on many, so I am seething with fustration.
They all leave at far points from my house , usally too far to get to.( Far enough for me, is 15 km, so 30 round trip,plus the ride , which is 27 - 70 km. ) A mere ride to the nut brown old people who whizz about town, passing me like Im a little girl, who would much rather play jumprope.
So after a rare day off on wed, I had planned to ride to this unfamilar suburb, this bastion of middle class comfort( in Canberra,they all look more of less the same- leafy green wattles, roundabouts, red tile roofs).
I pulled pages out of the phone book and everything, to get to this mysterious car park, nestled strangely by the scout hall and petrol station.
I awoke( after dreams of not beng able to call the group leader on my iphone - which I dont own - and gladly as if its anything like the phone in my dream, its a piece of crap and only usefull to some alien civilization) to rain. Pouring down buckets.
Here is my main complaint. What the hell is a spray jacket useful for?
Its not useful for rain. Am I to assume that its use is for those days , post apre rain - where one scoots amongst delighful puddles and delicate sprays , launched from friendly cars rolling on past?
Why does it LOOK like a rain coat, so after you spend a uge chunk of cash on the fucking thing, only to find that in a downour, your getting very wet AND sweaty? A interesting ride home where I tried to ride fast enough to beat the rain soaking THRU the jacket, but not so fast the sweat , spaking thru the inside met the ouside( thru my jumper) and gave me pneumonia.
Perhpas they are made for those alpine rides, where I coast like a speeding marmot( or wombat or something) down the sloping road, avoiding the mist that delicately soaks my merino vintage style jersey.
Note the use of delicate. Thats about as much protection as you get. 5 km of dryness, and 25 km of sogginess.
Searching on the web, for someone, ANYONE who can ship to Oz( I mean hey, I am like on a nother planet or something according to the postage rules). Most sites dont even have a way to ship things anywhere but the fucking USA.
Or no womens coats. Or one type , only in rasberry( no!!No!! No!! Why am I constrained to colours best left to infant girls and restrained from what I want.
A BLACK RAINCOAT. My bike is black, My shoes are black, my socks are black( note to self ; leave accidental purchase of black sox to Armstrong and flasher), my kits is black( I am pasty whitish yellow). I dont want blue. Blue clashes with the orange stripes on the black bike, Although it matches the bike I ride in the rain.
Somehow I imagine guys dont do this. Match things up so obsessively. But then all the roadies I see , all seem to have colour coordinated kits - red, or maybe yellow, lastly blue.
I dont know what is wrong with me. I found the perfect rainjacket( Ground Effect NZ) well somewhat perfect. I have to take second mortage to buy it, most likely and in womens sizes, it comes in blue or gree or orange BUT NOT BLACK.
The problem here is that I missed yet another ride, because I still havent bought this jacket , as i unable to choose the colour.
This is why I wear black. Why I have worn black for the last 25 years. I gave up. I use to wear things like kimonos, african safari outfits, capes, pirate garb, 60's go go outfits, tuxedo jackets. All wierd, and all colors. One day I got sick of beong so damn quirky and gave up. Then 10 years after that, I was too poor to afford anything but black jeans, a black t shirt and black doc Martins. I, like guys, bought a exact copy the day it wore out.
Black avoids the obsessive compulsive needs to make everything match, although it makes me look pasty yellow. I look much better in pink, In fact I love pink. But try getting grease out of pink.
Or I wear white. Or really, white with grease stains, as nothing stays unpersonalized for long.
I guess its looks as if I might actually cycle, rather than tool about in a 10,000 dentist mobile.
I am wishing I went liquigas and could buy everything in that putrid green chartrues and ride about looking like the cycling absinthe fairy. But, yet again foiled for women, seeing as I am small economy size, all the bikes you could purchase at the LBS( well the far away LBS) were surely made for giants. Bianchi mint green was nice.
But no , the magick bicycle that appeared, in my size range and in my price range, used - was guess- black!! You think I'd be happy. No I wanted grey. Its easier to match with the neutral colour of womens clothing.
Pathetic. Here I am, freshly better, able to conquer , out of bed, ready to kick ass and I'm worrying about THE COLOUR OF MY CLOTHES. Sad.
Not rejoicing, halleluyah! Im out of bed! Fucking A - no more pain! Yee ha, I weigh more than a 10 year old child( although kids now days seem to come in large economy size).
Excuses, excuses. Maybe I am afraid of failing. But it sure would be better to get up and find out, rather than try to deny it and worry about jackets.
So, I get online, to finally, after3 months, buy the beautiful but expensive rainjacket. And what happens, they wont let me use my customer number.
So here I sit, rain has cleared up, holding my credit card, bereft of rainjackets. Good thing its sunny.
peace
CG
They all leave at far points from my house , usally too far to get to.( Far enough for me, is 15 km, so 30 round trip,plus the ride , which is 27 - 70 km. ) A mere ride to the nut brown old people who whizz about town, passing me like Im a little girl, who would much rather play jumprope.
So after a rare day off on wed, I had planned to ride to this unfamilar suburb, this bastion of middle class comfort( in Canberra,they all look more of less the same- leafy green wattles, roundabouts, red tile roofs).
I pulled pages out of the phone book and everything, to get to this mysterious car park, nestled strangely by the scout hall and petrol station.
I awoke( after dreams of not beng able to call the group leader on my iphone - which I dont own - and gladly as if its anything like the phone in my dream, its a piece of crap and only usefull to some alien civilization) to rain. Pouring down buckets.
Here is my main complaint. What the hell is a spray jacket useful for?
Its not useful for rain. Am I to assume that its use is for those days , post apre rain - where one scoots amongst delighful puddles and delicate sprays , launched from friendly cars rolling on past?
Why does it LOOK like a rain coat, so after you spend a uge chunk of cash on the fucking thing, only to find that in a downour, your getting very wet AND sweaty? A interesting ride home where I tried to ride fast enough to beat the rain soaking THRU the jacket, but not so fast the sweat , spaking thru the inside met the ouside( thru my jumper) and gave me pneumonia.
Perhpas they are made for those alpine rides, where I coast like a speeding marmot( or wombat or something) down the sloping road, avoiding the mist that delicately soaks my merino vintage style jersey.
Note the use of delicate. Thats about as much protection as you get. 5 km of dryness, and 25 km of sogginess.
Searching on the web, for someone, ANYONE who can ship to Oz( I mean hey, I am like on a nother planet or something according to the postage rules). Most sites dont even have a way to ship things anywhere but the fucking USA.
Or no womens coats. Or one type , only in rasberry( no!!No!! No!! Why am I constrained to colours best left to infant girls and restrained from what I want.
A BLACK RAINCOAT. My bike is black, My shoes are black, my socks are black( note to self ; leave accidental purchase of black sox to Armstrong and flasher), my kits is black( I am pasty whitish yellow). I dont want blue. Blue clashes with the orange stripes on the black bike, Although it matches the bike I ride in the rain.
Somehow I imagine guys dont do this. Match things up so obsessively. But then all the roadies I see , all seem to have colour coordinated kits - red, or maybe yellow, lastly blue.
I dont know what is wrong with me. I found the perfect rainjacket( Ground Effect NZ) well somewhat perfect. I have to take second mortage to buy it, most likely and in womens sizes, it comes in blue or gree or orange BUT NOT BLACK.
The problem here is that I missed yet another ride, because I still havent bought this jacket , as i unable to choose the colour.
This is why I wear black. Why I have worn black for the last 25 years. I gave up. I use to wear things like kimonos, african safari outfits, capes, pirate garb, 60's go go outfits, tuxedo jackets. All wierd, and all colors. One day I got sick of beong so damn quirky and gave up. Then 10 years after that, I was too poor to afford anything but black jeans, a black t shirt and black doc Martins. I, like guys, bought a exact copy the day it wore out.
Black avoids the obsessive compulsive needs to make everything match, although it makes me look pasty yellow. I look much better in pink, In fact I love pink. But try getting grease out of pink.
Or I wear white. Or really, white with grease stains, as nothing stays unpersonalized for long.
I guess its looks as if I might actually cycle, rather than tool about in a 10,000 dentist mobile.
I am wishing I went liquigas and could buy everything in that putrid green chartrues and ride about looking like the cycling absinthe fairy. But, yet again foiled for women, seeing as I am small economy size, all the bikes you could purchase at the LBS( well the far away LBS) were surely made for giants. Bianchi mint green was nice.
But no , the magick bicycle that appeared, in my size range and in my price range, used - was guess- black!! You think I'd be happy. No I wanted grey. Its easier to match with the neutral colour of womens clothing.
Pathetic. Here I am, freshly better, able to conquer , out of bed, ready to kick ass and I'm worrying about THE COLOUR OF MY CLOTHES. Sad.
Not rejoicing, halleluyah! Im out of bed! Fucking A - no more pain! Yee ha, I weigh more than a 10 year old child( although kids now days seem to come in large economy size).
Excuses, excuses. Maybe I am afraid of failing. But it sure would be better to get up and find out, rather than try to deny it and worry about jackets.
So, I get online, to finally, after3 months, buy the beautiful but expensive rainjacket. And what happens, they wont let me use my customer number.
So here I sit, rain has cleared up, holding my credit card, bereft of rainjackets. Good thing its sunny.
peace
CG
Sunday, May 23, 2010
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
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
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