Excuses on holiday

My two small excuses for not going out daily for a long ride have gone on holiday (half term) with their doting grandparents.

So the pressure's on - no excuses - I have to be out cycling!

Critical Mass

The Critical Mass ride (http://www.criticalmasslondon.org.uk/) seems to be running into problems: their 'see where the road takes you' ethos is a bit too anarchic for the authorities it would appear.

Which seems like a good enough reason to join in.

Yesterday the Daily Mail, today the Bristol Evening Post

Our PR activity with Elyes Gabel is beginning to bear fruit - after having gone through appropriate hoops with BBC, agents etc.

Daily Mail piece last week, today the Bristol Evening Post, which doesn't seem as glam but is really key for helping r4ecruit riders for the ride:

"CASUALTY star Elyes Gabel is urging people to get on their bikes to help raise money for charity by riding from Bristol to London...." by Simon Peevers.

I would put the URL here, but it's so long it destroys the blog's layout, so if you go to: http://www.epost.co.uk and key in Elyes Gabel as search term you'll find it.

Gorgeous Guppy

Great excitement today as Nicci sets off to Bristol to help manage a photo shoot.

Elyes Gabel, who plays the gorgeous Guppy in Casualty, has given up his lunch hour to go over to the hospital and meet some of his real life counterparts, also riding the Action 100, to help promote the ride and recruit riders.

Getting there

Yesterday I had to work.

It was a beautiful day, the FA cup was on, and the boys had gone sailing, but when you run you run your own business sometimes its easier to accept that a day with no interuptions is going to be the easiest way to get the office moved, the IT working etc.

So I took advantage and planned a ride after work. I had thought 25 miles, but my husband, quite rightly, pointed out that I am not used to the bike and that starting with less was more likely to keep me out of trouble.

Accepting the reduced level of ride, and dressed for the cycling, I thought a jog to the shops at lunchtime might be more appropriate than my normal gentle amble. (Even though it's urban, there's a lot of wildlife around and it's generally fairly quiet.)

I assumed that people were looking at me because my jogging style's a bit girly/didn't wear a sports bra/Canterbury's are colourful (not that bright though). The real reason, it transpires, was that a bird had pooed on my shoulder. Not a sparrow. How I missed it landing I will never know. It was, I swear, at very least, an eagle. That had been eating. Lots.

One centimetre higher and it would have been in my hair. I only found it when I reached up to get something. And of course, it had to land, a big green glunky mass, on the white bit of my jacket. So cleaning up was added to my to do list.

Ignoring the fact that the big finger of God appears to be pointing at me and telling me to give up on this fitness madness, I went on my cycle ride. And very pleasant it was too. The absence of pain is reassuring. Lessons learned:
1. There's something big in the bushes in Sandford (This backs onto Dinton Pastures wildlife park, so doubtless it was a deer or fox rather than the alien invasion, mugger or other sinister happening that fertile imagination conjured up on an empty road, cycling alone at dusk)
2. Knicker elastic starts to get painful at around the ten mile mark.
3. Gel saddles aren't as comfy as people make out.
4. For every steep incline upwards, there's generally an equally steep one down at the other end.
5. No, I can't make the '30 Mph limit, Slow down' sign up by the school flash up on the bike.
6. Cars aim at you on a bike.
7. Teenage cyclists also aim at you.
8. At current rate of progress, the Action 100 ride will probably take me around 10 hours.
9. The worst hills aren't the steep ones, but the slow, gentle inclines like motorway crossings.
10. Reading at 8pm on a Saturday evening is full of people already wasted - before they go out.

And I now have the bug and want to do it again!

How good am I?

Have been a better behaved blogger this week, despite immense work pressure and overexcited small children - managed several entries.

Did a small on-line 'thing' the other day which generates a 'blogger code': was about tp paste the code onto my site but thought better of it - I plan persuading ancient rellies to sponsor me via this site, so having some kind of 'Readers Wives' pop up on screen because I've inadvertently posted smutty code probably isn't the best way to secure their support.

Of couse, it may be stricly legit, but I'm not sure it's a chance I want to take.

Anyway, quite simply, I'm applauding myself with this entry for having penned plenty this week, and for the 25 mile ride I'm planning for tomorrow. (Husband's taking boys down to the boat, so although I'll miss a day's sailing, I'll be in the saddle guilt-free!)

Bike's back

The bike is back - and what a difference.

For a mere 25 pounds, the bike has gone from the kind of machine that needs a basket on the front to the kind that needs a lycra clad racer on the back. I wish servicing did that to my Rover!
Apparently the rear gear had broken.

I've stopped beating myself up about only using two gears (out of what I thought was 17). The (17) 'go faster' graduating marks around the gear 'bell' are apparently only for decoration, and the bike actually has just three gears at the front - and I'd only need the top one if I was going really fast (a little hard around suburban Reading).

And the back gears were broken anyway, so no wonder I was confused! (Before you think I'm having a blonde moment, I hadn't been on a bike for 20 years before I embarked upon this challenge: my last bike was a chopper - first time around - that my parents gave away to the gypsies because apparently I wasn't looking after it properly. )

Between this and the people I spoke to on Sunday, I really do feel I can conquer this challenge.

The long and short of said advice came down to: if you're relatively fit you can do the Action 100. The pain factor comes in if you don't practise on your own bike in your own kit - expect to be sore (as in blisters, not muscles)

So the kit will be a great investment (no I didn't get shorts for my birthday: Mr Romantic got me a birthday card) But I'm not buying anything until I'm a little more sylph-like than I am at present.

Bearing my soul

Promised to put up picture from Sundays Action 100 lunch.

The boys meet charity mascot, Paddington Bear.....

Back to reality

After weekend of excess, looking forward to a cyclathon tonight (in front of telly on exercise bike) and collecting bike from it's service tomorrow.

Bike shop rang and said it was going to cost less than expected: I can live with service like that!!

Party, party

Just came back from the Action 100 launch party. Well, launch lunch. In Bath.

This was originally due in March, and I had accepted my invite, but today was possibly the worst day of the year it could be for me.

Firstly, it was a day which we technically had free. Second, third and fourthly this week saw my husband's, my eldest son's and my bithdays (in that order), culminating in a huge children's party yesterday, which saw the children hijacking a the DJs equipment until around 10.30 pm. Followed by clearing up. After lots of work shopping, cooking, preparing party favours, and all the other things that children's parties require.

So after celebrating husband's birthday (bank holiday), son's sixth birthday (actual day wqas Thursday) and gearing up for yesterday's beano, today should, technically, have been a day of rest.

Professionally, it was due to be a great chance to catch up with the stories of the people who make up the fabric of this incredible ride: the riders; the helpers; the head of fundraising for the charity. Personally, it was fantastic opportunity to meet some of the other riders, be inspired to get more sponsorship (if you're feeling generous/flush/charitable, you can sponsor me through the link at the bottom right of this page), and catch up with people who I have long considered friends.

Unprofessionally, I was pooped. I hadn't slept properly for two nights and managed to get hammered last night. I was at a loss to explain it. All I could think was that because I was preparing so much food, I hadn't eaten properly. Now I know that sounds a bit like the lame old 'I must have had food poisoning' when head has been over loo after heavy night out (those were halcyon days, before infants made the trade off a price too heavy to pay - ever tried responding to a persistent three year old when head won't lift from pillow?)

My husband actually noted the reason. I had drunk four glasses of wine over a period of eight hours, so no reason there to expect to feel anything other than a little warmed and full of goodwill. Except that the bar was serving .25 litre glasses of wine. Which means that I drank a litre. On an empty stomach. Without having slept much.

Which is a very long winded way of saying that I was really not at my best today - slightly jaded. I knew I wouldn't make the 11am bike ride from Bristol to the venue, but I had expected to get there a bit early. (Thank God for Nicci, who was there, bright eyed and bushy tailed, looking calm and collected and socialisng well, creating a great impression for the company.)

We had an amazing time. At the venue, The Boat House in Bath, the kiddies could play outside. And Richard Westropp, the last chairperson had brought his (affable) dog which they loved petting. We won't have one (when the boys - all three of them - can tidy up after themselves, I'll consider it. A hound in the mix just spells even smellier choas than the current melee of smelly socks and trainers)

Jen had done a great jon of organising, and had arranged for Paddington Bear, the charity's mascot, to meet the birthday boy (the littler of the two, son not husband) and deliver a cake. You should have seen his little face light up. He just couldn't believe it - Paddington! There! For him! (I'll upload a picture from the office PC tomorrow - am writing this on ancient home PC for kiddy use)

The company (Zed PR) had a big thank you for the work we've done for the charity - we've had some lovely articles written about the ride. An official declaration of my intention to ride was made (no pressure, then!) and lots of people were refered to this blog, on the basis that its going to be amusing. (Great - I'm tired and hungover and have to write a blog AND be funny. No chance. If you've read this far and can still follow the thread, you're doing well - and I'm doing better than expected.)

There were all of the amazing stories that I had hoped to find - and more. The amputee whose experiences with the ride have taken him on to challenges around the World. A man who was involved with some of the earliest rides. Someone from Bath who had some ideas regarding local media. An anaesthetist with a logical link to the charity (Action Medical Research). An inspirational talk from the Fundraiding Director.

I just hope that none of them noted that my brain hurt, my eyes felt like pee holes in the snow, and that my mouth tasted like the bottom of a parrot's cage.

Goody, Goody

I have a fear - ever since Ms Goody was lambasted for only doing 20 miles of the Marathon having boasted about a lack of training supported by beers and curry, I have visions of me, having been blogging for months about my good intentions (and, on occassion, abject terror) regarding this ride, not being fit enough to stay the course.

Heaven forbid that I should do it in such a chav-like fashion of course - the beer's a given (my husband's a brewer), but supplemented by great taste in wine (she says modestly) and a finer palette than curry. (OK, I confess, I eat curries too, but only home made ones, and as part of a balanced diet!) But this is a far younger woman than me, a woman who has released a fitness video, shed pounds.... I'm struggling to find time to pedal even to work between the school runs and hectic social schedule of the small 'n' stinkies and needing to keep the business running.

Anyway, the bike has gone in for its service. I pedalled to the bike show with the kids last night. First step was to get it fitted. Expecting to have to lower the saddle (getting on is SO ungainly), I now find it needs raising: "You have to be standing on tiptoes."

The manager looked at me askance when I told him I was cycling 100 miles (and has agreed to put up an Action 100 ride poster).

What I really wanted him to do was to sell me the whole kit - to get excited and help me get in the right frame of mind. I did mention that I won't buy the shorts yet - I am determined to have shifted some weight before I ride - the less I can lug around with me the easier I'll find the ride. But instead of kitting me out, he looked at me and said: "You're fine the way you are - she's lovely and cuddly, isn't she boys."

My children, who have been indoctrinated from a very tiny age to understand that you NEVER, EVER say anything bad about mummy unless you are in a position to scarper very, very quickly, agreed loudly - and asked for a pair of cycling gloves each.

So I'm now ten pounds lighter - from the wallet, not the hips.