Sunday, October 11, 2009
Off the road, on the road ...
It's been a funny sort of a week. A return to training, regular massage to get rid of the worst of the knots in my muscles (thank you so very much to Physio4life) and working like a demon both in and out of school to get things done.
By Friday evening I'd had a headful. A quick visit to the bike show had been inspiring but a little overwhelming and by the time I arrived home, I just needed some cathartic time on the bike. I found my lights and a rain jacket and headed out into the cold and wet.
On my way through Richmond Park an impressive bellow reminded me that the deer are now in full rut. When I cycled past an almighty (and stinky) stag just centimetres from my handlebars, I picked up my speed. I rode for a steady two and a half hours and began to find some much needed peace. I might not be making too many moonlight trips through the park in the next week or so: Mr Noisy made his point.
I rode with my friend Kevin on Saturday. Kevin knows lots about Byzantium, guitars and cycling. This makes him excellent company for a Box Hill ride. I had decided to take only one energy bar with me, a mistake that meant I had just about run out of beans by the time I reached the cafe. Sunshine and coffee revived me but left me thinking about where to have second breakfast on the way home.
Sunday saw me rolling out on my fabulous cross bike. It's blue, cute and Campagnolo. I am very proud to be seen out and about on it. It came from the Cyclefit bike sale and Sam had it resprayed for me. I'm no cross star but am beginning to find my feet off road. I managed to squeeze a couple of hours in before swapping bikes and heading out to Herne Hill for a first birthday party.
And that's when calamity struck.
I've cycled in London for many years now and have learnt to rise above the usual traffic-related nonsense that goes on. I don't RLJ. That's for idiots. I ride defensively but am mindful that I share the road with others. I got "doored" by a large man in an even larger white vehicle with blacked out windows (that's not fair - how am I supposed to see through them?), and whilst I was lying on the road he started telling me off. I'm okay. I'm bruised and sore, but okay. My bike is ok. We're all okay.
Tonight I shall fall asleep wondering what punishment would be given in Tartarus to large men who yell at girls they've just knocked off their bicycles!