Monday, 23 April 2012

With apologies to Private Eye....

"Posts on this blog may have given the impression that the author liked cycling (qv "I love cycling", "why cycling is the best thing since sliced Soreen", ad nauseum), and that its pursuit represented one of the finest options a man, or indeed woman, could pursue in their hours of leisure, being in turns, graceful, challenging, and an excellent excuse to dress up and own shexy kit.

The author would now like to correct any impression that may have been gained by readers that cycling is a Good Thing. Indeed, he now thinks road cycling is:

- expensive
- boring
- cold for 10 months of the year
- likely to harm parts of your body you didn't know existed
- fundamentally incompatible with the quality of road surfaces in the UK
- fundamentally incompatible with the culture, mindset and concentration levels of a minority of British drivers, and, ergo, moderately dangerous,

...and it is, therefore, to be avoided at all costs. Thank you".

My tongue is planted in my cheek of course, but, you know what, not completely. Who truly understands our psychological complexities - not me for sure - but I've had a pootle round on the bike today for the physio-recommended hour or so, and it didn't light my fire. That could be for any one or combination of reasons, ranging from:

- I've no overall goal at the moment
- I'm depressed about the cycling because it's looking highly unlikely I'm going to be able to join Mendi Prouleur in the Pyrenees this year
- road cycling's lost its slightly underground image in the last few years
- I'm more un-bike-fit now that at any time since 2004
- I'm distracted by the thought of the new job
- I'm suffering from "been there, done that" syndrome

Anyway, whatever, with a big capital W made my 2 forefingers and 2 thumbs. (Which reminds me, in the Netherlands, their equivalent phrase of trying to do something "with one hand tied behind your back" is "with two fingers and your nose".  Ah, those crazy Dutch people already for shure).  I'm not feeling this about running however, and I took my first tentative steps back on that particular path today with a definitely-not-physio-recommended 400 metre run. That complemented yesterday's 11 mile hill walk, which was fine too. Though I did get monumentally, biblically wet. These hills have a micro-climate all of their own. Just like any other hills I suppose.

This all comes at the end of a fairly momentous week for me personally. As previously advertised I left Lloyds Bank last week. I celebrated that fact with three consecutive nights out in London; Tuesday night at the theatre (Noises Off; very good indeed), bed by 11 am (sober); Wednesday night leaving do at a lovely bistro in Marylebone followed by assorted hotel bars, bed by 4 am (not very sober at all, though not embarrassingly inebriated); Thursday night to the annual Management Consultancy awards at the Hilton on Park Lane with my new employers, bed by 2 am (more sober than the previous night, but on top of the previous night enough to make me, erm, a little jaded on Friday - fortunately I was doing nothing more challenging than handing back kit to Lloyds and getting myself to Euston for the journey back 'oop north').

And so begins another chapter this week, blah and indeed blah....tales from the dark world of consulting to follow.

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