A week in snappy snaps

 Here are some random pictures portraying pretty much every aspect of my life. It's groundbreaking stuff.

Wearing oversocks! Clean shoes are cool kids. Oh yeah and I usually do some training once I've got the kit on too.

Making random compilations of food, usually with good stuff in though! This particular day I think it was macaroni and cheese with bacon, peas and salmon(?) on the side. Standard meal right? 

Playing with my sister's dog Alfie. He's completely insane and has an attention span of between three and five seconds, so we get along great!

Getting stuff from High5 - this was a great day. It was like Christmas all over again, but this time I got  a load of caffeinated powders. Thanks to Raph and Jack from High5 for being heroes.

Spending too much time staring at the O Symetric rings and thinking how cool they look when you spin the cranks. I'm not really into bikes but they are pretty mental to watch.

  

Drinking coffee out of various highly mature mugs. This should probably be top of my list as I do it at the start of every day; not addicted though!  http://douglasdewey.blogspot.com/2011/12/im-not-addicted-i-just-cant-live.html  

Ahhh, the fridge. One of my favourite haunts of an evening. I dread to think how much time I spend just staring into it, usually wishing I'd bought some dessert. Other areas of interest to me are the bread bin and my food cupboard.

Battling the never ending stream of stinky lycra outfits is hard work but it has to be done. Subsequently my bedroom spends 90% of the time looking like a launderette, with stuff hanging on every available space. 

Spending time on a turbo trainer has been a bi-weekly thing of late. My coach says it's making me stronger but I'm not sure he's taking into account the serious psychological damage that's being wreaked. That's definitely sweat on my face. Not tears.

Drinking far too much energy and recovery drink. I have perhaps one day a week when I don't have one. Thank goodness they taste good.

Fitting as much food as possible onto a plate. This picture really doesn't do the meal justice as it was a ridiculous portion of stir-fry and actually filled me up, a rare feat. I also take up this challenge of mega-fillage in the morning with my cereal bowl. It doesn't usually go as well though because I haven't had coffee yet and so tend to leave a trail of oats and milk on my walk from the kitchen to the chair. 

Spending more time on a turbo, doing some sweating, loving life. This is immediately followed by a thorough mopping of the area and then a long sit down in the shower.

So there you have it. The fascinating ins and outs of being a full time, unpaid, unemployed cyclist. I bet you never thought it was this glamourous!

That awkward moment when…

You’re having a drink whilst training on an innocuous, seemingly smooth piece of road when you hit tarmac turbulence, in the form of huge submerged craters. Obviously there happens to be a car overtaking at the exact same moment so the only option is to maintain course, cling on and ride it out - rodeo style. Thank goodness for my immense wrist strength (developed through youthful dedication to ‘rackets sports’) otherwise I would have been showing my over-the-handlebars bicycle dismount skills on very short notice to an audience of a couple of Shetland ponies in the adjacent field and a very confused Volvo driver.

You realise you’re the same dress size as your girlfriend. This may take more explaining than the length of this post will allow, but I’ll do my best. In the true spirit of Halloween (according to my last three consecutive years’ efforts) I ventured out before the big day to pick up a lovely floral print, full length number. This led to the local Phyllis Tuckwell charity shop (very worthwhile charity by the way) and the unwelcome knowledge that my ‘slight physique’ (shop assistant’s kind words) allows me to fit into an 8-10 size dress. There’s that incentive I need to go to the gym!

When you see a construction worker sitting in his dumper truck, staring at some girls and honking his horn and you think you’ll be funny and give him a cheeky wink and a wave to make him feel like a leering prat. Then he blows a kiss back. Either this guy’s got a wicked sense of humour or my trousers are getting a little on the tight side.

You’re doing a turbo session in the kitchen and the neighbour, putting his rubbish out for the next day, makes prolonged, awkward eye contact. Neither party knows who’s more wrong here: “Well I admit I was looking in his kitchen window, but was curious since all I hear day in day out is panting and groaning through the wall!”

People find out you’re a cyclist and their first question is “So when are you going to do the Olympics?” You’re forced to explain that despite popular belief the key requirements for getting into the upper echelons of the cycling world are a little more than:

1)      Own bicycle and possess ability to propel self forwards.

2)      Be comfortable wearing Lycra on television.

Finally you regain your composure with internal reassurances of; “It’s fine, they mean well, this is their version of encouragement”. Unfortunately they then drop the bomb by saying “Well it’s good that you’re doing something you love. I wish I could get paid to ride a bike!” as if the training required consists of sauntering to the shops en-velo for some nutritional supplies, before returning home to spend the rest of the day stretching out one’s tight muscles and perusing glossy magazines in search of men in tight, multicoloured shorts. Only part of that description is true! (I prefer driving to the shops because they’re a little too far and I don’t like cycling with a heavy rucksack).