I cycle in. A fellow cyclist pulls up alongside me at the Balloon Wood crossroads in his shorts, brrrrrrrr, and L thinks I don’t feel the cold. I have plenty of layers on this morning. We have a brief chat but then once the lights go green, he clears off and leaves me for dust.
‘Didn't he drag you along?’ L asks, ‘isn’t that how it works with cyclists?’
Hmmm, well yes it does, if you can get close enough in the first place to get dragged along... I couldn’t get near him.
L’s almost complimentary about Mr Yap (MD) this morning. She says he was ‘quite well behaved’ and even forgot to bark at the dog with no knees. A dog with no knees? I know how he feels; I had no knees until about Wednesday after that run last weekend.
Daughter has gone blonde. L asks me to be polite. I’m always polite, just not sure Daughter likes it when I’m polite. I think it makes her suspicious.
L goes to the gym after work and we rendezvous at the Plough, where it’s the start of Nottingham’s Stout and Porter trail which means that for the next month or so, many pubs will be stocking the dark stuff. Heaven or it would be, if I’d not got tons of races coming up this month which will force far too many AF nights.
Showing posts with label blonde. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blonde. Show all posts
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Nodders
It’s fairly cold but dry and no sign of the frost they promised us. So on bike.
I learnt a new term the other day, ‘nodders’. I pass one today. ‘Nodders’ are cyclists, usually new ones, who are so called because their heads bob up and down with the effort of cycling. The one I pass is also particularly red faced due to the unfamiliar physical exertion he is putting his body through.
I get a text to say that, unlike last week, my squash opponent has successfully negotiated the washing up without cutting off a limb. So we should be on for a game tonight. Mind you, there’s still a few hours to go, still time for catastrophe to strike.
I also have to negotiate the traffic home on my bike. The roads are still busy but one added bonus is that I finally get to speak to a cyclist I’ve been passing in the opposite direction for the past two years. As she weaves through the same congestion as me but from the opposite direction, we eventually end up meeting in the middle of the road. We briefly exchange pleasantries. Quite a nice little number, that I’ve had my eye on for a while, and it was good to have a closer look. As I thought, it’s an expensive looking Trek. Very nice. That’s the bike not the girl of course. She’s a short little blonde number, not that I noticed. The bike well outdoes my scruffy mount. I must get one of those stickers that says ‘my other bikes a Karma’, if you can get them. Of course I’m not, strictly speaking, currently in the market for a newer model. For a new bike that is, not for a new girl, well that’s what L tells me, but it’s always good to keep your eye in. Bike wise.
Meanwhile L, who’s blaming a spot of back ache on the gym bikes, has decided to try the real McCoy tonight. She intends to go out on the road. So she definitely won't be AF after that. She also reckons, perhaps not during either. Which is an interesting thought.
Squash happens and is a good workout, on already tired legs, if a totally fruitless one for me.
Back home, neither of us are AF.
I learnt a new term the other day, ‘nodders’. I pass one today. ‘Nodders’ are cyclists, usually new ones, who are so called because their heads bob up and down with the effort of cycling. The one I pass is also particularly red faced due to the unfamiliar physical exertion he is putting his body through.
I get a text to say that, unlike last week, my squash opponent has successfully negotiated the washing up without cutting off a limb. So we should be on for a game tonight. Mind you, there’s still a few hours to go, still time for catastrophe to strike.
I also have to negotiate the traffic home on my bike. The roads are still busy but one added bonus is that I finally get to speak to a cyclist I’ve been passing in the opposite direction for the past two years. As she weaves through the same congestion as me but from the opposite direction, we eventually end up meeting in the middle of the road. We briefly exchange pleasantries. Quite a nice little number, that I’ve had my eye on for a while, and it was good to have a closer look. As I thought, it’s an expensive looking Trek. Very nice. That’s the bike not the girl of course. She’s a short little blonde number, not that I noticed. The bike well outdoes my scruffy mount. I must get one of those stickers that says ‘my other bikes a Karma’, if you can get them. Of course I’m not, strictly speaking, currently in the market for a newer model. For a new bike that is, not for a new girl, well that’s what L tells me, but it’s always good to keep your eye in. Bike wise.
Meanwhile L, who’s blaming a spot of back ache on the gym bikes, has decided to try the real McCoy tonight. She intends to go out on the road. So she definitely won't be AF after that. She also reckons, perhaps not during either. Which is an interesting thought.
Squash happens and is a good workout, on already tired legs, if a totally fruitless one for me.
Back home, neither of us are AF.
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