Having at last finished CJ Sansoms 'Lamentation' and a jolly long, but well crafted and entertaining novel it was, I have opened Aprils account with JP Donleavy's 'the Onioneaters', picked up for a quid at Pitlochry station. Bargain...or is it? Started well, but I'm still making my mind up about it.
This weekend gone, I've been out on the bike. Pedalling away, mile after mile after mile, my mind wandering. During the course of the ride, I ruminated on a number of things. The condition of the roads is one thing. Appalling. A national disgrace. potholes waiting round every corner to gub you. There was report work to do for Monday and chores to be done in the house, but for the life of me, when the sun's out, I'm sucked out the door, some force of thermal or solar magnetism. Not so odd I suppose given the climate.
A night with the lads a wee while ago resulted in plans being tabled to ride back up to North Berwick again. And then down again two days later. Riding up was a full day out last year. Its all well and good looking at the A1 and saying that'll be around 100 miles. However, as I don't ride a juggernaut, we had to pick our ways through the cycle-ways which in places were little more than a rough track. Factoring in all the side roads, it was around 140 miles and that doesn't include border controls. So I need to get some miles in.
Then there was the other social night, where I stated, casually and in an understated way, that I was off to the Alps in the late summer for a few days riding and before I could finish my bowl of chilli, hands were raised and it looks like that might happen as well. Best start saving. Aunt Aggie always says that good things come in threes (she also says that bad things come in threes and that she is related to Mata Hari, but who knows the truth?!). The final item in this holy trinity of cycling are my recent, protracted discussions regarding acquiring an old tandem. Its still too early to say, but matters may be resolved later this week, at which time, I will need to book myself into a therapist for people who talk the talk but can't walk the walk. I am in danger of spreading myself too thinly in the sports arena, with a karate grading round the corner and various training shoes and early summer races vying for my attention. There is, obviously, quite a bit of organising to do on the cycling front. Lets face it, it wouldn't look too good slowing to a grinding halt up the Col de Madelaine and pitching over due to lack of training or just sheer weediness on the Col de Aggie. I don't want to cause an international incident due to a bad case of inertia.
This weekend sees me turning out for the Elswick relays, so its a two run day today and a thrashing of the weary tonight. Where will it all end?