CYCLING BACK TO HAPPINESS

Audaxity

2012-02-01T23:52:00.001Z

Yes, I know.

I joined Audax UK back in December, just before Christmas.

It seemed like the logical next step, joining a group of amateur enthusiasts, all intent on riding as far as they possibly can, at feasible speeds. I already know a few "randonneurs" anyway.

The first Audax I've signed up for is on 12th February. 10 days away.

It's a 100k ride (I now have to think in kilometres rather than miles, which will be a bit of a challenge for a while).

It's in Leicester, which is around 250 miles away from where I live.

I have a friend who lives halfway.

The original "plan" was to ride from here to Gloucestershire on Friday, stay with friend, then ride from Gloucs to Leics on Saturday, do the ride on the Sunday, and return in the same fashion over Monday and Tuesday.

Then some work came in on the Friday.

Plan B is to cycle to Gloucs on Saturday, and stay with friend, who will then drive us both to Leicester very early on the Sunday morning, and we will ride together (plus Leicester friend), returning to Gloucs in the evening, so I can cycle back to Pembrokeshire on Monday.

This will cover around 300 miles (er, 420k or thereabouts, I think...) over 3 days.

That should wake me up!

Surly Cross Check and a change of life...

2011-11-16T00:41:00.001Z

Ever since I built and started riding my lovely Robin's Egg Blue Surly Cross Check, life has changed. For a start, my cycling is much improved. I LOVE riding this bike in a way I've never experienced before. Someone on the Surly Owner's Group forum, discussing the technicalities of frame sizing, commented that he favoured a frame larger than he should theoretically have "because he felt like he was riding within the frame, rather than riding on it". This prompted me to comment that I didn't ride on or in my Surly, I just ride it.

My rear hub failed a few weeks ago. I had a pair of early 1980's Dura Ace large flange hubs which had been given to me, and I'd laced Mavic A719 rims onto them. The rear wheel flew badly out of true one day, and as I tried to rectify the proble, there was a loud bang and the flange had cracked and split. Game Over. Fortunately, I had a pair of Shimano XTR hubs which I had bought a couple of years ago, with the intention of building them into MTB wheels. I bought a Mavic Open Pro rim, as the hub is 28 hole. I still have the old wheel on the front, while I await a new rim, which has been on back order at the local bikeshop for the past couple of months. (they finally had it delivered today, but it's the wrong colour...)

I'm tweaking bits as I go, mainly due to finances. Having resigned from my job at Bluestone a couple of months ago, I don't have as much disposable or regular income as I had, but they did give a month's pay in lieu of notice, so I was able to get a few orders in for upgraded kit; winter cyclocross tyres, a rather nice (and fairly cheap) brown synthetic leather Charge "Spoon" saddle, brake levers which are actually designed to work with V-brakes, a very nice rack (sadly not a steel Surly rack, which was way too expensive!) I have new pedals on order, and when my brake levers are fitted, some lovely new blue bartape...

It's becoming a very well equipped and good-looking bike, and something people notice. It stands quietly out from the crowd. I've had several interesting conversations about the bike - one very memorable chat outside Tesco with a lovely man who was himself riding a vintage Moulton folding bike, but he was far more interested in talking about my bike than his! Around the time I built my bike, my friend Pete bought a Sabbath titanium frame and built up his "dream bike" - 11 speed Campag Record (my old Dura Ace hub had a 6 speed freewheel block!). We go out riding regularly, and he's talking about building up "something like mine...".

With such a bike comes responsibility though. I like trying new ideas out - for instance, I first had butterfly bars, rather than drop bars. I went in for downtube gear shifters because firstly, the bosses were there on the frame, and secondly, it meant I could change the handlebars from flats to drops with only brake cables to worry about. It also meant that when my hub broke, I could take a 6 speed wheel off and replace it with a spare 8 speed wheel with very minimal adjustment needed! However, I've found myself considering the aesthetics of each new idea before implementing them - if it's not going to look right, it's probably not going to get past the planning stage. For instance - I'd have happily put a crud-catcher type mudguard on the downtube of my old frame, road bike or not. I wouldn't entertain that idea now. Functionality still holds sway, but it has to look good.

Setting the record straight

2011-08-16T21:07:00.001+01:00

Coming back from 3 weeks of interweb-and-mobile-phone-free camping can be quite traumatic. Thankfully sorting through my emails is a relatively easy task, just select some and hit del.

One email caught my attention with the subject line" surly bike", from Oliver at Tredz, who had read my somewhat negative blog post about trying to buy a frame from their shop (he did better than me,I can't find it!) and apologised for the negative experience I had had. Cool.

I've been back since, complete with 11-year-old cycling mad daughter, who was somewhat bowled over by the place. I was helped quite considerably by a chap for whom nothing was too much trouble and came away with pretty much everything I went for, which just doesn't happen locally - our local shops are so cash strapped they don't carry anything but a minimal stocklist, and the standard andswer to any request is "I can order one for you..."

So folks, if you're anywhere nesar Swansea Or Cardiff, go to Tredz! It's ace.

Crumbly decals

2011-07-13T22:37:00.001+01:00

Even before I'd started work on building the bike, before I'd even raised a hex key with determination, I noticed some of the rather lovely decals had started to flake off, like skin from a sunburned shoulder. I could have cried.

In the grand scheme of things, what's a decal? It won't stop the bike from working! However, I'd like the world to know that I'm riding a Surly, and I'd like my Surly to look its best.

Only one decal has crumbled - the left-hand (and therefore less visible clean side) "Cross Check" on the crossbar (I assume that crossbars became toptubes when they ceased to be horizontal. My Surly has a horizontal toptube, which makes it a crossbar), but it fell off with such ease that I do fear for the rest of them, particularly the lovely little letters going down the back of each seatstay and down each fork.

I sent an email to Surly in America via the website on Monday evening. (I really didn't think it would be good to contact Tredz, my retailer, about such a minor niggle, as it clearly wasn't their fault)

I received a reply this very day, 48 hours later, asking for a shipping address to send replacement decals, and offering apologies.

Surly, I am impressed!

Test Flight

2011-07-13T18:36:00.001+01:00

Not quite race-fit, as the front tyre punctured on the way home from the test flight.

Hardly anything of substance made it across from the old bike apart from the wheels, so it feels very very different.

Have to get used to operating downtube shifters again, feels very strange after so many years. New, smaller chainset means all my gearing feels different too. I was so used to the old gears I'd know exactly how many gears I had in reserve while climbing, and how near to top I was while descending. I'll have to re-learn all that.

The jury's out on the butterfly bars. I'm sure they'll be cool, but it's hard to know where to put them for best results. Where they go dictates length of brake cable, so it's important to get it right.

Awesome colour!

Schoolboy Error

2011-07-13T08:51:00.001+01:00

Building the Surly, I left off around 9pm last night with "just" the cables to connect, watched a bit of telly, went to bed, and was awake again around 5am, so I got stuck in.

I turned the stem upside down to raise the bars and turned the bars around. This could account for it.

I connected both brakes, adjusted tension, clipped and crimped cables, and was admiring my handiwork when the phrase I teach the kids in Safe Cycling whispered into my ear "Don't get left behind!"

I'd connected the brake levers to the wrong brakes! (Right lever to rear brake, left lever to front; very continental!)

The bike is now built (just giving the wheels a polish) and that, I am pleased to say, is the only error to report, and fairly easily fixed.

work in progress...

2011-07-12T23:46:00.001+01:00

The Surly is almost built! Just the chain and the cables and we're there.

It's been a good day. All has gone well.

Up early tomorrow for the few final things, then out for a ride, hopefully.

Surly

2011-07-11T22:10:00.001+01:00

My Surly Cross Check frame arrived today. I was at work. My friend Pete had just texted me "is it here yet?" when Mrs H phoned to tell me it had indeed arrived. I really wanted to go straight home!

See the full gallery on Posterous

When I did eventually get home, unwrapping it was a joy. Beautiful colour - "Robin's Egg Blue" - bit like Bianchi but bluer. and nice bold fun graphics.

Tomorrow I need to borrow a headset press.

A friend in need...

2011-07-07T23:09:00.001+01:00

My dear friend Carole Edrich is following in my tyre tracks (in reverse, if it's possible to follow someone backwards) and cycling from London to Pembrokeshire (and on via the ferry from here to Ireland) in a couple of days. I made the journey from here to London a couple of years ago, not long after Carole had been diagnosed with cancer. I cycled there to take part in the Breakthrough sponsored ride from London to Cambridge. A 290 mile ride to get to the start of a 50 miler... nice warmup!

Carole is doing to raise money for Cyclists Fighting Cancer. I have advised on the route, and how far I think she should try and ride, and will hopefully get to ride some of the welsh stages with her, work and weather permitting.

Please consider sponsoring Carole; her justgiving page is here. "Every Little Helps" may be the nauseating tagline of one of the most unethical retailers on the planet, but every little does indeed help causes like this. You all know how passionate I am about cycling, not so many of you will know that I lost my Dad to cancer when I was 12 years old. There was no cure back then. It's a different story these days, thankfully, and it's charities like this which are at the forefront of providing care for cancer sufferers. They really do need every penny they can get. I have worked for a charity which provides adapted cycles for disabled riders, and know only too well how expensive some of these machines can be. I also know what joy and independence they can bring, and that is priceless.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE, dig deep in your pockets, piggy banks, search down the back of the settee... any penny you can spare will be very well used.

Changing of the seasons

2011-07-07T22:46:00.001+01:00

Today was my last day of Cycle Safety training, for this academic year.

Tomorrow we have the annual meeting at County Hall to decide who's doing what where next year.

I was hoping that by now I'd have landed either the Bike It Officer's job or the Project manager's job with Pedal Power, but not having been granted an interview for either, it was obviously not meant to be. Shucks.

I'm not too bothered (though I would like to know why) - I'm quite happy as I am. I can pick up some extra hours at Bluestone over the summer, and I can go back to teaching cycle safety next year. I can also get some much needed time to myself and time with my family. Win win win.

I've had solid work through may, June and July. Some weeks I've been commuting 25 miles a day for the whole 5 days - that's 125 miles a week just travelling to and from work. It makes the nearer jobs seem much much easier! In the midst of all that I threw in the Tour of Pembrokeshire, 60 miles of abject misery in relentless rain and driving wind.

Looking back on my first year as a cycle safety trainer - I love it. Deeply.

I have worked in 5 very different schools.

2 very small village schools.

1 very large school with a very wide mix of pupils.

2 schools with "bad" reputations (for different reasons).

I can't say I've found any of it "easy".

I have found it all deeply satisfying, very enjoyable and ultimately rewarding.

I now wish to train to teach National Standards, and extend my school base. Bring it on!

Paying attention

2011-07-06T07:23:00.001+01:00

I gave the man in Tredz my email address:

"it's jimboharwood, all one word, all lower case..."

he wrote down Jimbo Harwood.

"No spaces..."

he wrote down JimboHarwood.

"There are no capitals..."

"Yeah, I know, that's just the way I write."

No email received so far.

Carpe Tedium

2011-07-06T07:19:00.001+01:00

Phone message from Tredz picked up yesterday (Tuesday):

New frame ordered from supplier and will be delivered to Tredz (not here) by the "end of the week" (Not Wednesday then, as stated in the shop.)

When it arrives it will be shipped to me "as soon as possible" and SHOULD be with me "sometime next week" (Not this Thursday then, as stated in the shop.)

Life gets tedious, don't it...

Coincidence?

2011-07-04T23:04:00.001+01:00

I think not!

I was reading the conditions of entry for the Three Peaks Cyclocross, a race I have always wanted to enter.

Rule 5 states:

Only competitors riding cyclo-cross bikes with drop handlebars will be allowed to take part. Mountain bikes (or any other type of two-wheeled transport) are not permitted and anyone who appears (in the opinion of the race officials) to contravene this rule will be disqualified and/or prevented from taking part in the race.

Now, I bought some "butterfly" or "figure 8" handlebars when I was last in the local shop, as my wrists are getting painfully bored with "flat" bars, and the limited hand positions they offer. I do have a pair of drop bars, but don't really use them.

On closer examination of my new frame, I discovered that it has braze-ons for downtube shifters, and decided instantly that it would be a crime not to use them. It then occurred to me that, by taking the gear controls off the handlebars and onto the frame, I have opened up a whole set of possibilities for interchangeable handlebars.

Inadvertently, I have also opened up a whole new can of worms vis-a-vis the rear wheel! Because the downtube shifters are non-indexed, it matters not a jot whether my rear wheel has 6,7,8,9,10 or even 11 gears! As long as the chain is adequate for the cassette, the shifter will cope with any number of gears!

I cannot believe how this new venture is panning out! I had planned to buy a Surly frame during my 50th year, and build a bike up from the ground, but lost my job at the wrong moment. Luckily my friend gave me a frame in return for work done for him, and my bike got built anyway, with, most importantly, handbuilt wheels. Now, that frame has died (stripped threads in the bottom bracket) and a new phoenix must arise from the ashes.

How hard can it be?

2011-07-02T21:31:00.001+01:00

Last week the bottom bracket of my tourer started making with the horrible creaks clunks and groans which imply a new one might be in order. I decided to use the opportunity to upgrade to Hollowtech 2, which involves the purchasing of a whole new chainset with integrated bottom bracket. When it came to fitting, it became clear that the threads inside the bottom bracket shell were worn beyond redemption, and the left hand bearing is left just turning on itself with no hope of ever tightening. Condition: fatal.

Having scoured the interwebs for ferrous frames, it quickly becomes apparent that the only viable option for replacement steel frames is American company Surly. I've long lusted after a Surly Cross Check, and discovered that they can be ordered through local Welsh company Tredz, and decided to pursue this further.

On their website, they state that delivery is free, but that you can ensure "next working day delivery" for an extra tenner. I tried contacting them to check whether they had Surly frames in stock, to no avail - you just can't get through on the phone.

I decided to take a chance and travel to their Swansea shop on spec.

Not a Surly frame in sight, but an alarming number of red-shirted surly shop assistants, of varying degrees of cluelessness. The first one led me to a computer, typed in "Serley" and announced that they do not stock anything by that maker.

I instructed him as to the correct spelling, and he found the frame I was after. "We don't have stuff like that here though, we'd have to order it in for you, and you could come back for it, but you'd have to pay for it up front, 'cos it's expensive, like." Then he disappeared.

I found another chap at the checkout, who was a little more polite but equally unhelpful and disinterested, so I just left the shop, which is on an enormous business park with nothing else nearby save for bathroom showrooms and car dealerships. I watched the one bus per hour cruise past on its way back to town.

After a couple of ranting texts to my wife, I decided the best thing to do was go back into the store (whatever they say, it's not a bike shop, and definitely not a "bike lovers dream and a great place to spend time regardless of whether you're looking to buy or browse.". It's like Tesco without the groceries.) and try and salvage something from a so-far wasted journey.

I singled out an older looking guy, and stood in front of him till he noticed me. I patiently explained my dilemma. I asked if they could get a Surly frame delivered to my home as soon as possible. There were a few too many ifs and buts to make his answer entirely convincing, but I decided to order and pay for the frame, as it was preferable to the alternative, which would be to return home empty handed, transfer money to my wife's debit card and order online. We'll see if it turns up before the end of the week. I have my doubts.

I did manage to buy the brakes I wanted.

Coming home on the train, I wondered what state the world has come to, when you can't just go to your local bike shop and buy something as fundamental as a frame. Bikes are sold as bikes, fully built. In the bike shop I worked in, the owner would usually refuse to customise a bike in any way, and would only sell it as it came in the box.

Locally, almost anything I ask for has to be "ordered in". I can get the basics - cables, chains, brakeblocks, but anything like a chainset will not be kept in stock by any of our local dealers. It will invariably take longer for them to get it than it would for me if I ordered it online. Don't they realise they have to be competitive with time as well as price? I don't mind paying a little over the odds to support my local bike shop, but having to wait 10 days instead of the usual 3 is pushing it a bit.

Buying a frame has been much harder than I imagined.

Random

2011-06-27T22:38:00.001+01:00

Random is a fashionable word, innit?

I don't ordinarily use it myself. I've even had occasion to argue its suitability. Can something be, like, totally random, fairly random, randomly random? I see random as an absolute - something is either random, or it's not.

This is:

As I was cycling my merry way to work this sunny morning at around 7.30am, I passed through the eternally sleepy village of Jeffreyston, Pembrokeshire. On the edge of the village is a bench. Not a very pretty or appealing bench, made from recycled burger boxes by the look of it, and it doesn't offer a splendid view or anything, it just faces a tangle of trees on the other side of the road. This morning, as you can see in the photo, it had a crumpled vinyl copy of Abba's Super Trouper album on it (which wasn't there when I came back that way this evening). How random is that?

Midsummer's Day

2011-06-21T20:48:00.001+01:00

It was a dark, dingy, dismal morning. I could not rush around getting my stuff together, as I simply did not have the energy. The children were being hassled, harrassed and shouted at to get dressed as usual, and you can't swing merrily from room to room gathering stuff together as there is a child in every doorway moaning about something and getting under the feet.

So, I was ended up setting off for my commute to Haverfordwest about 15 minutes later than I would have liked.

It was raining. Again. A mere drizzle at first, but it grew in heaviness and wetness once over the water. It was a hard ride. I got drenched.

My group of schoolchildren were sat outside their classroom like a group of refugees when I arrived, raring to go. I hate being late for anything, but when you're late for children, it's worse. It had stopped raining, but was still overcast.

As the day wore on the sun did appear briefly, and it stayed mercifully dry for us. My cycle home was quite humid, though with quite a strong breeze.

It's evening now. Raining again.

Dad's Day

2011-06-19T22:46:00.001+01:00

Father's Day.

Handmade cards, a cup of tea in bed (after being woken up far too early by an overexcited No.1 son showing me a spider he'd collared), some chocolate, and a couple of DVDs. What more could the heart of man desire?

I had a church service to lead, but it was a late one, starting at 11am. No rush.

My wife was working in the local park in a craft tent most of the day, so she took the kids with her after church, while I came home to prepare dinner (roast chicken, mmm), after which I watched one of my new DVDs, (Paul) to see if it might be OK for the kids to watch (it isn't). Very funny though.

Made the most of the solitude and got stuck into some knitting. I'm knitting a hooded cardigan for No.1 daughter and have just started on the sleeves. I'm knitting them simultaneously on the advice of more experienced knitters, and it's proving to be sound advice. I will also try and knit the two front panels simultaneously, so there.

So, what does the craft of knitting have to do with the sport of cycling?

Well, it's good exercise for the hands. After a ride my hands and wrists are usually quite painful, or completely numb, neither of which is a comfortable state of affairs. Squeezing brake levers, twisting gear shifters, and taking my weight is all my hands do on a ride. When I get to work I have to wait a while before my fingers can manage a spanner or a hex key, so anything which gets the blood circulating and articulates the joints is a good thing.

I'm not sure who's proudest when I see my children wearing something I've knitted them. Mammy knits them much better things, but if they can tell their friends their Daddy knitted this for them, well, it's a bit special, innit?

See the full gallery on Posterous

Not cycling

2011-06-18T11:55:00.001+01:00

Today is a not cycling day.

All week I've been commuting to work in fair weather and foul, averaging around 25 miles per day.

Today is a "rest" day.

The family are out for the day manning a stall on a craft fair (not my idea of fun at all).

I've just done the shopping for the weekend - walked to the supermarket with my rucksack and hauled it back full of heavy stuff - half a dozen tins, a chicken for tomorrow, various vegetables and potatoes etc. My legs just don't notice the extra weight.

I need to spend time in the house; cooking dinner, tidying up etc, and getting myself and the living room ready for our moment of peace between 8pm and 9pm this evening. The weather outside is bordering between sun and rain with no telling which way it'll go. Quite a blustery wind blowing in from the west, so not ideal cycling weather anyway, but I really would like to go for a "pleasure ride" (ie climb some hills that I don't have to!). I know I'll start to get edgy if I don't!

My older brother has spent his entire life running. Oh, he works as well, but running is "what he does". Not just around the park, either - he's a FELL runner. Up and down some of the biggest hills in Britain. In his 60's now, he's been told to stop. He's had surgery on his knee, and the condition is not about to improve if he carries on pounding the hills like he does. A friend has loaned him a bike, but he hasn't been out on it once. He used to cycle loads as a teenager, but gave it up in favour of running (the daft lad). I wish I could lure him onto the bike. I've tried, but to no avail. He doesn't think it would be the same.

I agree. I don't run. It hurts. I'm fairly tireless when I walk, and can cover some distance, but where I could walk around 20 miles in a day comfortably, I could cycle 5 times that distance, with a comparable amount of effort.

There's also the joy, for me, of knowing that I'm riding on a bike I've set up myself. I know where every nut and bolt is and how tight it is. I know how much tension is in the spokes, even, because I built the wheels myself. I know how hard the tyres are.

All you do before a walk is put your shoes on - where's the skill in that? Most of my children can manage that most days!

But, today is not a cycling day.

Midsummer Blues

2011-06-17T23:14:00.001+01:00

I know I'm not on my own, because even though my best friends told me I was completely maaaad for turning out at 6.30am on a very rainy Sunday morning for the Tour of Pembrokeshire last week, hundreds of other friends did exactly the same thing.

However, you'd think that working in the bike hire department of a holiday resort, I'd be among sympathetic people when it comes to cycling to work. Not so.

It was fairly clear they didn't believe I'd cycled 60 miles that wet day. Thankfully there are photos aplenty here (my number was 431) to prove that I was there, but why did I need to prove it?

This morning, it was fairly cold, with a bit of light drizzle which had soaked me through by the time I got to work. It rained all day but I still worked outside (because that's where I like to be). It was raining heavily when I cycled home. Wetness is a fact of life in Wales.

So, why are people amazed that I cycle in such weather?

Best job in the world?

2011-06-14T20:55:00.001+01:00

It's not everyone's cup of tea, and a few years ago I would NEVER have imagined myself doing it, but being a Cycle Safety Trainer has to be one of the best jobs I have ever had.

On Monday, at lunchtime, I bumped into Dave, a fellow trainer with whom I worked last year, a retired fireman. We were discussing the job over a Tesco lunch, and Dave said "I never go home from this job feeling I've had a bad day".

I thought about that a lot afterwards, the words echoing around my head like a mantra.

I thought back to a couple of weeks ago, when I was at quite a difficult school. The first two days I arrived home a seething mass of stress and tension, because the children, many of them from gipsy families, were very demanding, and I didn't feel the work I was doing with them would add up to anything. The last day, though, everything clicked. They all did really well in their assessments and written tests. I was on Cloud 9, and I can't wait to get back there again next year.

My current school is similar. A big school, I'm there for 3 weeks. It's a 12.5 mile cycle there, then I have to walk a mile or so carrying heavy road signs to mark out my territory, then back to school, then walk out again with my groups. It's physically very demanding and the children are mentally demanding. The local traffic is insane, to say the least, but we have to work with what's there.

The kids get stuck in, and they cope with whatever I, or circumstances, throw at them. They're ace.

The LSAs who have to come out with me usually start off quite diffident. They don't want to be there and have obviously drawn the short straw or they've done something wrong for which this is their punishment. I try to involve them in any way I can, and they invariably come back having enjoyed the experience, and wanting to come out again.

At the end of six hours, I'm completely drained of energy and emotion, and I still have to get the kids safely back to school and put my signs away. I still have to cycle 12.5 miles home.

Today, I could have sang all the way, and I still have a week and a half to go.

The Tour of Pembrokeshire 2011

2011-06-12T18:38:00.001+01:00

Yesterday (Saturday) I cycled 25 miles or so in absolutely perfect conditions - bright sunshine and a quiet but refreshing breeze - to and from Saundersfoot, Pembrokeshire, to register myself for the Tour of Pembrokeshire. My bike was rolling very nicely with a fresh new chain and brakeblocks and a general cleanup and I was feeling good. My speed averaged at just over 14mph for the trip, pretty good considering the steepness of a couple of hills.

Today (Sunday, obviously) I woke at 5.30am, had a hot breakfast of fried eggs and beans on toast, packed a saddlebag with food and tools and set out for the start line. It was raining, and I soon discovered it was also windy. I'd nikwaxed my windproof top, and the rain was rolling nicely off and my armwarmers were keeping the chills at bay. My legs, however, were soon completely numb from the knees down (no exaggeration). I got to Saundersfoot later than expected due to a 9mph average speed, and only had a couple of minutes to get in line for the first bunch to go. I'd met my friend Paul at the line, who was acting as a motorcycle marshall. He thought I was bonkers to even turn up.

Carbon-framed bike straddled by lithe-limbed and callow youths streamed past me up the very steep climb out of Saundersfoot, and continued to do so for the rest of the morning, though not quite as frequently.

My original intent was to beat my previous long-distance record of 95 miles in a day, and complete the 117 mile long course. I didn't care what time I did it in. However, it was now patently obvious that conditions were about as unfavourable as it gets, and that there was going to be no letup within the forseeable future. I had the option of shorter 80 mile or 60 mile courses, but they all ran together for the first 10 or 15 miles, when the longer course split off to go up and around the Preseli Hills. When we came to the junction I had no hesitation in selecting the easier option.

When I say "easier", I of course mean "shorter". There was nothing easy about it. There is no word for flat in Pembrokeshire.

After around 40 miles, we reached the first Feeding Station. I'd already stopped for a snack about 5 miles back, but was ready for a little rest, and further fillage. Free food is free food.

I think I'd decided then that as the route passed within a few hundred yards of my house I wouldn't be going any further than that. There didn't seem to be much point. When I reached Pembroke Dock I'd covered just over 60 miles, in 6.5 hours, with a couple of lengthy stops, in terrible conditions. I'm happy with that, for now.

See the full gallery on Posterous

Ligaments

2011-06-05T11:42:00.001+01:00

I don't think I've done anything to them before, though quite how I've gone so long without hurting one of them I don't know. I got some pain in both my knees during and after the ride on Thursday evening, but nothing extreme, so i thought it best just to "ride on through it". I couldn't stand afterwards.

The next day my knees seemed OK so I went on a ride with a friend, during which my left knee was giving me twinges, but again, nothing so bad i had to stop or even ease off. Some of the hills on the homeward leg were a bit painful but I coped.

Yesterday I was in pain from the moment I woke. I was only going for a short ride anyway, so I applied the ibuprofen gel liberally and set out. I was in pain the whole time. I could apply no pressure to it whatsoever. I was limping badly uphill, practically riding one-legged, and had to cut my short ride even shorter.

I applied a bag of frozen peas as soon as I got home, and more gel. I did take a slow walk on it, just to keep it moving, but even that was sore.

Today I rest.

I'm applying icepacks for a couple of minutes every hour or so. There was no pain first thing this morning which is an improvement on yesterday, but there is soreness now. I'm just sitting around with my leg either flat or up, and I'm going nowhere.

The Tour of Pembrokeshire

2011-06-04T10:39:00.001+01:00

Le Tour de Pembrokeshire is on 12th June 2011.

There are 3 distances: 63, 82 and 117 miles.

The most I have ridden in one day is around 95 miles, so I've decided to go the whole hog and do the big one. What's the point if it's not a challenge? It would also seem that the older I get, the bigger the challenge I'm ready to face. Two rides of between 40 and 50 miles have started my preparations. I have a nagging pain in my left knee which is a worry, it only hampers me on steep hills, when I have to overuse my right leg, which is not ideal. I'm trying a painkilling gel today, and may resort to a support bandage, but that will be a very last resort.

Next week I plan to be back at Bluestone on Monday and Friday, and I will lengthen my commutes both ways.

Tuesday to Thursday I will be at Fenton School in Haverfordwest, a fairly easy commute along the wonderful Brunel Cycle Trail. There are some nice variations I can take.

My plan is just to keep riding, so that by next Sunday my legs are just turning automatically. My stamina is fine, but I need to do some work on speed.

I'm raising money for Pedal Power in Cardiff while I do this, please feel free to donate whatever you can on my justgiving page, every penny donated will make a difference!

Friday Morning Blues

2011-05-27T06:54:00.001+01:00

I phoned work at 5.30am to tell them I wouldn't be in today. I thought it was 6.30, and was wondering why the guy in Security was sounding so sleepy and surprised, bless him.

I haven't had enough sleep. Not just last night, but all week. That's what Post Traumatic Stress does. It robs you of things like sleep, of confidence, of faith.

Interestingly, we visited a church last week where the pastor spoke (at bum-numbing length) on faith, and how we keep it when we're "blindsided" by something (his word) which threatens to knock us off our perch. Before this I'd seen my faith as quite strong.

I'm tired. I'm not thinking rationally.

I had a meeting at work earlier this week about these problems, but nothing is as yet resolved.
I told them that some days, I just dread coming to work.
They nodded.
I explained that, having to cycle 12 miles with a heart full of dread was massively different to a 15 minute car ride with the radio on.
They looked nonplussed.

How can someone who has never cycled to work have the slightest clue what I'm on about?

I've gone on at length in previous posts about what a joy and a privilege it is to have that hour first thing in the morning when it's just me and the bike, but just now, I'm finding it impossible to even get on my bike to start the journey.

As far from happy as it gets...

2011-05-26T23:03:00.001+01:00

I have gone from quite substantially content to dismally unhappy in the space of a week.

Something I don't want to go into has caused a MASSIVE resurgence of Post Traumatic Stress, and I am finding it very difficult to cope, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

It's work-related, so it's not something I can avoid or dodge around without serious rearrangement of my affairs.

In short, it's something I HAVE to face up to, whether I want to or not.

And I just don't know how to, or if I can.

an audio podcast test post...

2011-05-26T14:02:00.001+01:00

weary_blues.m4a Listen on Posterous

This is a podcast I've literally just recorded.

It's something I've been meaning to try out for a long time but for one reason or another I just haven't got round to it.

Then today, my facebook friend and haiku writer John Tiong Chunghoo posted a haiku he had written for the great poet Langston Hughes, which reminded me that I used to perform this poem as part of my live set.

I don't think a recording of it exists anywhere, and if it does, it won't be very good, or at least I won't be happy with it.

I recorded it straight into my macbook. No messing around with levels and gain and impedance and all the jiggery pokery of the previous recordings I've done, no flickering needles or green and red LEDs, no cueing up tapes and demanding silence in the room, just one quick take and the job's done. I was just sitting on my bed with the macbook in front of me, using the tiny built-in microphone.

I even managed to listen back to it without shouting at myself (something I just don't do normally, but I had to make sure you could hear it).

My first thought was to post it on youtube, but it isn't video. I hastily gathered some images of first-generation bluesmen such as Lightnin' Hopkins, Howlin' Wolf etc and messed around with imovie to make it acceptable for youtube, then I remembered that some of my electronically musical friends use soundcloud to share their work, and posted it there. I then discovered that I can post it here too!

My deep and sincere thanks to John for prompting this, it could be the beginning of a whole new chapter for me.

A long week.

2011-05-15T09:29:00.001+01:00

Last week was the first week of Cycle Safety. I've done a couple of bike checks, but last week was the first school, and a trial to see if my rather tight schedule allowed enough room and time for the children to learn the things they needed to.

Monday and Friday as usual were taken up with my work as Mechanic at Bluestone, and there were unexpected problems here which added to my workload.

On Tuesday morning the bridge of my specs broke, for around the 4th time. Fortunately my optician is just up the road from where I was working, and I was able to get them repaired quite quickly. My spare is a pair that Specsavers got completely wrong - I can just about see through them for distance, but any reading or writing is out of the question.

That did add a few extra miles onto my commute though, and meant that I didn't get the rest I was looking forward to on Wednesday morning. My total mileage for the week (Monday to Friday) was 136 miles, much of it quite heavily laden with the equipment I need for Cycle Safety - 2 full panniers and a rucksack. Every day of work, either at Bluestone or at school, I was on my feet the entire time.

I have to say that my ride to and from Bluestone on Friday was hard. In previous posts I have crowed about how easy it can be. Not so this day. My bike felt like the brakes were rubbing on the rims, like the chain had become one solid lump, like the frame had been filled with lead. The backs of my knees hurt with every ounce of extra pressure. Every way I went was uphill. My breathing was all wrong, and my lungs felt as though they had been sealed off from the rest of me, lined with clingfilm, so that although they were still gasping air, none of it was getting through to my bloodstream. My nose was constantly clogged with snot and my eyes streaming with tears from the wind, which was constantly in my face.

Thursday at the school, when I handed out certificates, received a thankyou card and an excellent feedback form, was just a heaven-sent day from beginning to end, capped off when a young girl who had recently moved from busy Essex to sleepy Pembrokeshire, came and told me that I had "removed her fear of roads".
Friday was the day from hell, in many ways.

On the way home on Friday, an hour later than usual, I really didn't think that I was going to make it. The prevailing wind in Pembrokeshire is a sou'wester, which shapes the trees, and it was strong, and in my face the whole way. The last 5 miles from Carew to Pembroke Dock is not pleasant at the best of times, pounding along the trunk road amid heavy fast moving traffic, but with the wind in your face and the sun in your eyes (better than rain I suppose) it can be hellish. I really felt like stopping at the Carew Inn and texting a friend to come and pick me up while I enjoyed a leisurely pint, but the chances were my friend's car wouldn't be available, and I'd have to restart the horrible journey after a pint and a rest. Maybe I should have.

I'd love to be able to tell you that despite all this I still cycled home with a song in my heart and a prayer on my lips, but I didn't. To make matters worse, my ipod wasn't charged up in the morning. I couldn't shut the world out. I cursed every car which sped past me, sometimes silently sometimes loudly, particularly those which blared horns. I cursed every hill I climbed, and there are many.

Sometimes, there's just no easy way.

Day Off!

2011-05-04T08:58:00.001+01:00

Today is my last day off in what looks like a long time! (By "day off", I mean a weekday when my children are at school, and I have no work to do, paid or otherwise). Tomorrow, I do my first cycle safety checks of the season at Monkton and Hook schools, and then next week Cycle Safety Training begins. For a couple of months it will mean I'm working Mondays and Fridays at Bluestone, and Tuesday to Thursday I will be in various schools around Pembrokeshire teaching years 5 and 6 how to cycle safely on our roads. The furthest school is Fenton School in Haverfordwest, a 12 mile commute along the lovely Brunel Cycle trail, so almost completely traffic free. It will mean that for 3 solid weeks I will be cycling over 25 miles per day, 5 days a week, which totals, er, 375 miles. Niiice. Of course, most of the time spent between commutes is spent on my feet, shouting at children. Hopefully no children will be harmed or lost during these exercises.

I will map my progress on my GPS and post regular updates on how far (and how high!) I've cycled.

Ten feet down continued

2011-04-30T16:02:00.001+01:00

When I'd posted the last blog, "Ten feet down", I suddenly wondered why I'd posted a blog exclusively about prayer on my cycling blog, and re-posted it on my prayer blog. Then, thinking about it later, I realised how the 'ten feet under' idea fits in with cycling, particularly hill climbing. That's the state of mind you need to conquer those hills. Ride them as if you're riding on the level. The hills are just like waves, only they don't move as much. They're just ripples on the landscape. Ride downhill just like you were on the level too. I suppose on solid ground, the "ten feet under' analogy doesn't work so well - we could invert and say ten feet up above the highest hill on your route is where you need to be cycling.

Ten feet down

2011-04-30T08:24:00.001+01:00

I showed great restraint in Emmanuel Christian Bookshop on Thursday; I didn't buy anything for myself! (You have no idea how hard that is!) I was looking through the prayer section, where there are always books without which my life is incomplete. I became aware that I bought a rather substantial book on prayer some weeks ago, which I haven't yet delved into; "Taste and See - adventuring into prayer" by Margaret Silf.

That book "appeared" on the floor at the foot of my bed this morning, peeping out from under some clothes.

I picked it up and opened it "at random".

The first sentence to leap towards me contained the phrase "ten feet down", in quotations, obviously referring to an earlier mention.

Riffling back through the pages (none of this consciously thought about) I came upon a section titled Ten Feet Down and read:

"A friend once told me an interesting fact that if you can imagine yourself in a stormy sea, and then imagine yourself ten feet below the trough of the highest wave, the water would be perfectly calm. The picture appealed to me, and helps me come to prayer.
Like most people, I live my life on the 'surface' of myself..."

That was enough to cause a lightbulb moment. I'm just noting this now so I can return to it later.

It's hard road (dead or alive)

2011-04-30T07:28:00.001+01:00

My ride to work yesterday made me think I was starting to make it all sound a bit too easy in my posts on here. It's never easy.

There was no noticeable difference between yesterday and any other day. It was a non-skeddo bank holiday, so there wouldn't be much traffic around, if any (something to relish). I'd had around the same amount of sleep I usually have (ie not quite enough). It was a bright, fresh morning, not a hint of the wet stuff anywhere.

My wife brought me a cup of tea as usual - she always wakes early, but today she'd woken a little later than usual, so everything was slightly more hurried. As I struggled through breakfast I noticed I was a bit snotty - certainly not a full-blown cold, or, God forbid, manflu, but my face was definitely a little bigger than hitherto, and my breathing more laborious, punctuated by the odd sneeze. A mild headache, nothing worth troubling the medicine cabinet with.

I eventually got myself out of the house over 10 minutes later than usual, and as I've tried to make clear in previous posts, every minute counts at that time of day. I couldn't rush around though. All my movements were slow and laboured, like I was moving underwater.

The gears on No.1 bike need a bit of adjustment - it's still rideable, but it's annoying. So, I took the Rockhopper. Bulkier, heftier, but on the plus side, lower geared.

It was hard work right from the gate. It felt like the back brake was stuck on, so hard was the pedalling (I actually checked!) I set off slowly as I always do, but this time I stayed slow. Every turn of the pedals was effort. It became clear along the route that I was going to be a couple of minutes late if I didn't put a spurt on. I couldn't put a spurt on if my life depended on it. I continued riding "within my means", and clocked in at 8.02am. The ride had taken 1 hour 22 minutes, and I hadn't stopped anywhere.

My lungs and sinuses were a little clearer for the ride, and I did generally feel marginally better for having done it. It took a couple of cups of tea before I was ready to lift the first bike into its stand, but despite the glory of the weather, work remained hard throughout the day.

The ride home was more of the same. I got changed out of my uniform with 10 minutes to spare, and sat and had a cup of tea before setting off as extra hydration when you have a cold is essential. The afternoon was also incredibly hot for the time of year. I still made it home in about an hour, spurred on along the trunk road by playing keepy up with a road bike for a while (it really annoys them when a mountain bike holds their wheel!)

I remember a phrase used in a letter to Cycling Weekly, back in the days when I actually took the time and effort to read it, when a reader said it felt like he'd "taken the wrong legs" on a ride one morning. It happens to the best of us (and I'm far from the best!). However fit we are, however accustomed we become to long rides and hill climbs, there will be days like this. Most peculiar, mama!

How long is one hour?

2011-04-27T08:16:00.001+01:00

I'm currently helping to promote The Moment of Peace.

The aim is to get a million people to be mindfully silent for one hour;

One Hour. How long is that, exactly?

Sixty minutes. How long is a minute? Sixty seconds.

3,600 seconds? Doesn't really mean much. You could sit and count up to 3,600, but then you wouldn't be being mindful. You'd be counting, and the chances are you'd speed up a bit to get to 3,600 quicker, so you wouldn't complete your hour.

Two thirds of a football match. I don't like football, so for me that sounds like a long and boring time.

It's being silent through Emmerdale and Coronation Street, and no getting up to make a brew halfway through! Imagine how many words of script are spoken in that one hour (and don't forget to include the adverts!)

The website suggests a time of 8pm on Saturday 18th June 2011, which, according to my hasty research, is when most of the nation will be watching Britain's got Bollocks or some such stuff - not something which would distract me or my family from an hour's quiet contemplation and meditation, but there are (sadly) many people out there who just wouldn't want to miss it. If they did, what on earth would they talk about at work the following day? "Did you see so-and-so sing such-and-such?" "No I was meditating." Instant conversation killer!

But I digress.

Do we have any real concept of how long one hour is?

It's the time it takes me to cycle to work, but remove the bike, the tired legs and the landmarks - how do I measure the hour then?

To sit in silence, eyes closed, mindfully (ie without distractions) for one whole hour is quite a task, really!

Of course, you can set an alarm to go off at the end of the hour, but who wouldn't sneak a peek to see how much time is remaining?

I helped organise a 24 hour prayer event last year, and spent the entire 24 hours in a church. I expected it to be an ordeal, a real marathon of endurance. It flew by. Time was immaterial. I only looked at my watch twice the whole time, and was utterly amazed to see how much time had passed. But that's me.

I was going to write about time seeming to drag and/or fly by depending on... what? I'll do that some other time. My hour's up.

Start from where you are...

2011-04-25T21:03:00.001+01:00

not where you'd like to be.

I first encountered this phrase when I took part in the "Expert Patient Program" (EPP) - a self-help group for people with long term illnesses or disabilities.

I enrolled on it while I was recovering from a double hernia operation a few years ago.

Just so you know, I've had a lot of abdominal surgery over the past 16 years, for one reason and another. Most of my abdomen is now scar tissue, which makes exercising my "core" muscles nigh on impossible, hence my big belly. I try to lose weight, to "firm up", but all pretty much in vain. I don't like it, but it's something I have to live with, and yes, I do try and pretend it's not there.

That's where I am. Where are you?

You have to be realistic. You have to be honest. Brutally. You have to accept where you are, especially if it's not where you want to be, because it's the only way you'll ever get anywhere.

I've come a long way, baby.

Be Here Now

2011-04-25T19:48:00.001+01:00

A working day today for me, very busy due to the bank holiday.

Out of the house at 6.30, and a cool and easy ride got me to work at 7.45, going a longish way around (but by far the easiest).

I had in mind yesterday's posts as I cycled, particularly going up Whitehill.

I found writing them quite difficult, and not very rewarding. I felt I'd missed a lot out.

I hit on the key to it on my way home, though. It had been a warm sunny day, which I'd spent working outside all day. I was very tired - could very easily have gone to sleep for a couple of hours after lunch!

At hometime I eased myself carefully out of the park onto the road, prepared to take it easy. My knees ached like they wouldn't stand for much in the way of pressure. It was a warm afternoon but there was a perfect breeze cooling things down to just the right heat.

The first half-mile or so on the road is gently downhill, so you can reach a quick zip with no effort at all, and once I was moving, I decided that I may as well "put the hammer down". I took the same route I'd taken this morning - mainly level for the first two miles, then a long fast downhill followed by a very long and winding gentle uphill through mixed countryside, then down Whitehill to the trunk road for the 5 mile grind home.

From the gates of Bluestone to The First and Last (would be my local pub if I ever drank there) took 45 minutes. If I'm counting, I usually count from inside the grounds right to my back door, but both the start and the finish have tricky bits like cattle grids and level crossings. From work to home had a previous best time of 58 minutes, and that was straight along the main road. 13 miles in 45 minutes I'm very happy with.

It wasn't much of an effort either.

I still had time to think and pray and stuff.

And I realised why I find it hard to write about.

It's because the key to it is that old chestnut, "living in the moment" "the eternal now" etc etc.

The post about climbing the hill - stare at a space just in front of you, don't look up... it's meditation on the here and the now. Don't waste energy wishing you were at the top of the hill, accept where you are. Don't look at and be daunted by the mountain, focus on each turn of the pedals. That's what I do, without even thinking about it, really.

Admittedly, it is much easier to do this on a sun dappled stretch of single-track lane snaking through the woodlands of Pembrokeshire than it would be weaving through the stinking angry traffic of any urban landscape, but the principle is the same.

Wild garlic is everywhere in the hedgerows. The lanes of Pembrokeshire smell like a french restaurant.

How to cycle uphill.

2011-04-24T21:08:00.001+01:00

Let's deal with a hill we know, being as we're talking about cycling to work. There are three such beasts on my commute, in quick succession. Two of them I can delay or avoid by switching routes (and adding some miles to my journey) but the first one has to be done, the alternatives are just too long to be worth it.

My hill, from Carew to Whitehill is about 5 miles into my commute. The trunk road rolls over fairly easy terrain, and provides a good warmup, but the hill is still very daunting, and there is no easy way to start it, as it rises steeply straight after a long narrow bridge over a tidal millpond, on a righthand bend.

With no real runup, I select my second lowest gear just before the first incline. Low enough to keep me moving but with one still in reserve.

We won't concern ourselves with how big, or how long or steep it is. All hills are the same, and we're at the bottom.

RULE 1: Do NOT, under any circumstances, look up. As soon as you see the enormity of the task ahead of you, you've defeated yourself. This principle applies to any hill, whether you know it or not. Get your mind set on a mantra or prayer or a song lyric (see previous post). Fix your gaze on the road just ahead of your front wheel, and keep it there.
RULE 2: Ration your energy. We do not have an infinite supply of energy. It runs out. Do not start your hill like a greyhound from a trap. Use the minimum amount of effort to turn your pedals (this may still be quite a lot!). Keep your gears low, and try to stay in the saddle as long as you can. Don't worry about how slowly you seem to be travelling, as long as you're moving upwards, it's progress.
RULE 3: Keep going, no matter what. Do not stop! Your lungs may feel as though they're about to burst. The chances are, they won't. Your thighs will burn with lactic acid. Pain will sear along your sciatic nerve. Ride through it. Do not stop. The pain in your thighs and chest is nothing compared to the pain in your soul at having been defeated by mere gravity.

Have a treat ready for when you get to the top. Chocolate is great for this, and will make you feel instantly euphoric, as will the feeling of conquering that hill. Have a drink. Replace some of the sweat you've lost. Look back. See how far you've come, it's a truly great feeling. Once you've conquered your hill, it gets less intimidating each time. Just grit your teeth and enjoy it!

How to cycle to work 2 getting out there.

2011-04-24T20:21:00.001+01:00

My average commute to work is 12+ miles, quite hilly, and takes around an hour, sometimes more depending on the route and just how well my legs are turning. I don't own a car, so I don't have the option of saying "I'll drive to work today", my only option is cycling. I could get a train, which would take me to a station about 5 miles from my workplace, and when I started work, I considered this as an option for particularly wet mornings, though it hasn't yet occurred to me to do it. I'd have to set off around the same time anyway, and would probably get there later, so is it really worth the extra expense? I could walk, of course, but that would take around 3 hours, and as I start work at 8am, it would mean leaving the house at 5. Not practicable, really.

My wife usually wakes me up with a cup of tea around 5.30am, and has my cycling gear ready for me, so it's just a question of getting some breakfast, usually just a bowl of cereal and a second cup of tea, checking and packing my pannoier with tools, lunch, uniform etc and getting out there.

It's a little easier now it's light at 6.30am. It was quite an effort when it was still dark, but to watch the sunrise as I cycle along is a joy which makes it all worthwhile.

I take my ipod with me. I do not consider this dangerous, as I don't have it loud enough to cancel out any traffic noise. On the main road I usually pop out the right earpiece so I just have background music or spoken word in my left ear and traffic noise (if there is any) in my right. I don't always have it on, sometimes the silence and the birdsong is enough.

Attitude is a major factor first thing in the morning. I don't allow myself a single moment of negativity. I concentrate completely on the positive aspects of cycling to work, the fact that my body will be getting a good workout, the fact that I will be filling my lungs with fresh air, the fact that I will in all likelihood see a spectacular sunrise, the fact that I have a whole hour of complete and utter solitude - a rare and luxurious thing for the father of 4 young children!

Even though I know my journey time is about an hour, I try and set out as near to 6.30am as possible, 6.45 at the very latest, so I don't have to rush. If I'm half an hour earlier into work, that's 30 minutes of lovely peace and quiet with a cup of tea before the others arrive and it all kicks off.

I start slow. I have arthritis in my hips and knees, and they're a bit stiff and creaky first thing. Any attempts to get them to move faster than they want to results in quite serious pain, so I let them find their own comfort level.

I pray as I cycle. Cycling is a rhythmic exercise, and repetitive prayer mantras are ideally suited to the rhythm of cycling or walking.

I'm a Christian, and I use Christian prayers and chants, but we can all pray however we want. I start with The Lord's Prayer, simply because I know it so well, and repeat that a few times. Then the Jesus Prayer, which is another one ideally suited to repeating over and over:

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

The Christian mantra "Maranatha", which is Aramaic for "Come, Lord", and is just 4 syllabes of equal length. After that I let the prayer go where it will.

As a follower of 24/7 prayer, I find filling up an hour with prayer quite easy, and it is easy when you do it regularly - like everything, it gets easier with practice.

For me the importance of the prayer aspect cannot be overstated. I need that time of prayer to start my day - were I working at home, I would still pray, though probably not for an hour - it's much more difficult at home to sit quietly for that amount of time. You may not need this to start your day, but what you do need is something to take your mind off those hills! Maybe a song to sing (either aloud or in your head) or a tune to whistle, anything to distract you from dreading that hard climb ahead!

I'll deal with tackling those hills in a separate post.

How to cycle to work: 1. clothing.

2011-04-24T16:05:00.002+01:00

my friend posted this on facebook following my previous posts here:
"that blog about your cycle route on a daily basis.........how do you do such a distance?"
and it prompted me to think in detail about how I approach my commute to work.
The right clothing is essential.

Footwear: I wear "proper" cycling shoes; SPD shoes which clip to my pedals and have a much stiffer sole than walking shoes. In cold weather these are coupled with sealskinz waterproof socks, though this has not prevented my toes from numbing up. I have found cycling shoes problematic in many ways - I think the problem lies in the fact that cycling shoes are made by cycling companies such as Shimano, Bontrager, Specialized etc and not by shoe manufacturers. Now, if Clarks made cycling shoes... I am seriously considering buying shoes with a Goretex lining next. Despite the prohibitive £130 price tag I suspect they will be a worthwhile investment.
Trousers: I wear padded shorts, whatever the weather. I possess a pair of waterproof, breathable trousers, but have hardly ever worn them. My legs overheat. I have a pair of lycra bib tights which I wear for longer journeys, but I like my "baggy" shorts with detachable padded insert for my work trips. I work on the principle that if my legs get wet they will dry, and if they're cold at the start they'll soon warm up, whereas cooling down hot legs is a much trickier feat to accomplish.
Shirt: I wear a cycling shirt for a number of reasons - the pockets at the back are good for carrying stuff (you don't want your trouser pockets cluttered with stuff, it soon becomes an uncomfortable burden when you're on the move). The high-cut collar is good for keeping the wind off the chest and neck, and the lightness of the fabric is good for "wicking" sweat away from the body and for drying quickly when wet.
Jacket: I have a Paramo windproof cagoule - this is not cycle-specific, but does its job brilliantly. It's not waterproof, but is slightly water-resistant, and a wash in nikwax every few weeks keeps it that way.
Gloves/Mitts: I always wear padded gloves or mitts. My wrists still hurt sometimes, my fingers still go numb, but it is minimised by good padding. I favour a thin glove so I can still feel what I'm doing with my fingers.
Helmet: I wear one for added visibility, rather than protection. I favour the "skate" type helmet rather than the tradiotional road cycle helmet as I attach a couple of lights front and rear. I have never found a cycle helmet which is comfortable, but what I have now is the best of a bad job. The sponge padding doesn't dry out very quickly, so it's best to leave the helmet on rather than taking it off, letting the sweat cool down and putting your head back into a cold wet helmet. I wear a microfleece cap inside it in the winter.

Wear what works for you. Don't overdress, because you'll end up all hot and sweaty. Do wear cycle-specific clothing, it's designed to be comfortable on the bike and comfort is of far more importance than appearance. Be prepared to spend money - good cycling clobber doesn't come cheap!
My work clothes I leave at work, only taking them home when they need washing, and carry them to and fro in my panniers. I don't wear a rucksac on a journey of any length, they give me backache.
If you're a person who runs for the nearest doorway when the first spots of rain appear on the pavement, forget it. Get used to getting wet. It's going to happen a lot. Take a towel. Some enlightened workplaces now have showers for cyclists (mine doesn't).
Sort out your clothing the night before. There's nothing worse than being able to find only one mitt as you're heading out the door, and set off in plenty of time, there's nothing more likely to put you off commuting to work by bike than having to race against the clock every day. Some days, when you're in the mood for it, it's fun to try and set a new record, but if you're constantly having to push yourself to the max every morning, you'll soon give up. Ride your route to work when there's no pressure, and take your time. Allow for the odd catastrophe such as a puncture - carry a spare inner tube, a puncture repair kit and a pump, along with a good multitool which can cope with most minor eventualities. I find carrying a spare inner tube is the best way to prevent punctures - the day you don't have one with you is the day you'll get a puncture!

Commuting part 2

2011-04-23T07:53:00.001+01:00

I've written about my commute to work in the previous post, and as I've said, it's all good whatever the weather and it sets me up for the day.

The ride home is a different beast.

I work hard. I find it the best way to get through the day.

We have a fleet of around 200 bikes which had never seen a service till I started work. There's a lot to do.

Now the weather is good, I drag a workstand outside and fix bikes in the fresh air all day. As I've said, the bikes were in a sorry state when I got there, most of them needing new chains, new brakeblocks and new cables. As soon as one bike's done, there's another to take its place.

When I commute to work, I travel to a different world. I'm surrounded by beautiful countryside - I have one of the best views of the Preseli hills anywhere. Apart from my work colleagues, I'm surrounded by people on holiday. It's a nice atmosphere to be in, and I don't have to think about anything. I can fix bikes in my sleep, I don't need to think about what I'm doing, in fact the less thought, the better.

I'm on my feet all day and the work can be strenuous.

When 4.00pm comes around, I've usually tired myself out.

But then I have to cycle at least 12 miles home.

Grim determination is the only way.

I start off slow. I try and take the path of least resisitance, but there aren't any, really. The hill on the north side of Creselly has to be avoided at all costs. It's a killer, with a nasty bend in the middle. Even though I'm dropping over 200 feet in altitude, it's all so up and down, you don't really notice. I try and maintain a steady pace, but really I just want the journey over. Invariably I start to push the pace. The A470 trunk road between Carew and the dock is very busy at that time of day, and traffic seems determined to run me off the road. It is no fun.

commuting

2011-04-23T07:13:00.001+01:00

I started work as a cycle mechanic at Bluestone about three months ago, at the beginning of February 2011. I work on Mondays and Fridays, although it seems to make more sense to say Fridays and Mondays, though it's hard to tell which is which sometimes. I have been known to greet my colleagues on a Friday with "had a good weekend?".

I cycle to work (and of course back again). When I started my hours were 9.00am to 5.00pm, but this meant getting home after 6pm, so I requested to change my hours to 8am - 4pm. This means leaving the house at 6.30am to arrive before 8am.

My commute to work is just over 12 miles via the shortest route (two "busy" main roads), though there are numerous alternative routes, all of which add length to the journey, but add interest, or are less hilly.

According to my GPS, my workplace is 262 feet higher than where I live, so there are some serious climbs involved in my commute to work.

The first section, 5 miles east along the A470 trunk road from Pembroke Dock to Carew is fairly level with a few gentle inclines, and is a good, if boring, warmup.

The second part heads north from Carew towards Canaston Bridge along the A4075 for about 7 miles. This road contains three serious climbs in quick succession, which is what prompted me to look for alternatives.

The first hill, from Carew to Whitehill, cannot be avoided without adding around 3 miles to the journey, and the alternative is almost as hilly, so is not worth the extra time and mileage. At Whitehill, I can turn west and drop down to Creswell Quay, a more picturesque route which replaces the second and third climb with one large one. This is a couple of miles longer, but much quieter and prettier. If I turn right (east) at Whitehill (a recent discovery) there is a fairly level route to Jeffreyston followed by quite a drag of a climb through Loveston.

Creselly, that's the place to avoid, sitting atop its own hill, smack in the middle of the journey.

Even with that extra hump in the journey though, that's the quickest route, and I don't always manage to set off in time to allow for diversions!

The journey takes around an hour, rarely less, often longer, so i try to allow 90 minutes travelling time. The hardest part is getting out of the house, particularly on a rainy morning, though I haven't had too many of those. A couple of months ago it was pitch black and freezing when I set out from home, now it's light and warm(ish).

It's a lovely hour, a prayerful hour. I take an ipod with me, but only iff I need to be jollied along. The birdsong at that hour is quite something, and I have regularly heard woodpeckers along the way (though never seen them). I have seen an owl returning home through the morning mist. The ride sets me up for the day. Whatever mood I leave home in, I'm usually in a better one by the time I get to work. I'm the first one there, in the Bike Hire shop, so I can mooch around getting changed and lingering over a cup of tea before the day gets started.

Blog reposted

2011-01-05T13:43:00.001Z

I’ve rearranged things so I can post to “cycling back to happiness” from posterous.com.

Bonzo Dog band Hunting Tigers with Lyrics

2010-12-21T23:55:00.000Z

SANTA FOR A DAY

2010-12-21T19:53:00.000Z

A couple of weeks ago I agreed to be Santa for a couple of hours during the afternoon at a Christmas fayre at the local school. I was paid for it.
The event was shambolic. I was told to walk around with a sack of sweets, handing them out to children who were seen to be participating in events. As expected, a gaggle of ill-mannered oafs followed me, surrounded me, and generally demanded sweets, why wouldn't they?
After an hour I was frought and exhausted, so I gave the last of my sweets away and went home, vowing never to repeat the exercise.
Today I was Santa again.
Same school, different setup.
I had a grotto.
Children from Early Years up to Year 4 were brought along to be given a small present. I sat in a rather cramped "sleigh" in an even more cramped tent in a very hot santa suit, from 10am to 3pm. (I did get a lunch break, but most of this was spent hastily wrapping colouring books as we'd run out!)
Some early years children were scared by this strange bloke in a false beard, why wouldn't they?
I asked them all their names, every single one. (There were over 200 of them).
Most of them went away feeling they'd met the "real" Santa. I felt like I'd done a "real" job.
I didn't get paid, it was a school fundraising exercise, but I did get a box of maltesers and three miniature malt whiskies! Cheers!

THE END OF A YEAR

2010-12-12T22:38:00.002Z

It is hard to believe my last post was back in July.
So much has happened since.
My daughter did indeed take her bike when we went camping - we were there for almost three weeks, and we cycled out to Stack Rocks and back (around 9 miles), as well as shorter rides around the campsite.
Over the past few months things have changed dramatically. Due to a sudden increase in our horrible neighbour's bass playing, we were prompted into looking for a mutual exchange, and found one almost instantly! We have only moved to the next street! All quite incredible, all God driven, of that I am absolutely certain.
Our new house is a semi-detached house with two brick-built sheds in the back garden, which will be great for cycle storage when they're clear of the rubbish which currently occupies them. Both front and back gardens are flat and much more user friendly than the old garden/yard we had. Rooms inside are bigger, with the notable exception of the kitchen, which is tiny in comparison, though still serviceable.
We have been resident here a couple of weeks and things are still chaotic, but we have settled in quickly. The plan is to get fairly straight then have a house-blessing party with a few Christian friends, and pray blessings on the rooms, the walls, the gardens, everything, and "set things straight".
Then we "open" as a "HOUSE OF PRAYER".
Much else has happened too, far too much to recall just now.
I'm VERY tired. There is much to do in the new house and at the end of each day I am exhausted. I will endeavour to look back over the past six months and give regular updates where possible.

10

2010-07-24T13:57:00.002+01:00

My daughter Jasmine is 10.

She has always enjoyed cycling, ever since her first bike, when she was 4.

She's not one to exert herself, though. I suspect what she likes most about cycling is that she can keep moving without pedalling when the gradient takes her.

Today, I needed to cycle to Tenby. My wife has been called up for a spot of urgent facepainting this afternoon, and was needing to replenish her stocks from Griggles.

I gave Jasmine the option of coming with me or not, and despite the threat of rain, she chose to come along.

There are some punishing hills along the route, the longest being the hill from Lamphey up to the Ridgeway. She took this one in her stride. We stopped halfway to catch our breath, but she soldiered on and completed it, much to my amazement. Along the top of the Ridgeway we had wind and drizzle, though not wet enough to warrant the wearing of waterproofs. Down into St Florence was a wild descent, and she managed to draw safely to a stop in front of an approaching car - hopefully the shock will teach him to curb his speed somewhat and be a bit less impatient. Other motorists were very kind and courteous to us.

Beyond St Florence, a few more shorter but steeper hills had her walking-and-pushing for short stretches, but it was a last resort. Going into Tenby is the shortest steepest nastiest hill of the lot. I turned round to find her cycling up it with ease!

We had comfortable time in which to do our shopping and get to the railway station in time for a train back to Pembroke Dock.

I gave her the option of getting the train all the way back, or getting off, either at Lamphey or Pembroke, and cycling the remaining distance. She elected to get off at Lamphey.

Bush Hill, between Pembroke and Pembroke Dock, is a killer. Even her mother cannot do the whole of Bush Hill. Jasmine did it! Now we're home again, she has wibbly legs, especially when coming down stairs. Now she wants to take her bike when we go camping!

One Proud Parent!

FURTHER DELAYS

2010-07-23T20:11:00.001+01:00

My new spokes are still not here. Mark at the shop says they're on order. He also says they didn't have plain gauge spokes in stock, so he's ordered me "competition" spokes. Just wish they'd get here in competitive time!

SPOKECALC

2010-07-17T19:58:00.002+01:00

(click the title to find yourself a cool spoke-calculating online app)

One has to take various critical measurements - rim diameter, hub flange diameter, distance from each hub flange to the centre (the rear flanges are offset by the cassette or freewheel). These measurements are then fed into the calculator along with the number of spokes, and the length of spoke is calculated according to which lace pattern is to be used.

A vernier caliper is all that's needed for hub measuring, but rim diameter is trickier, and is best effected by cutting 2 spokes 200mm from the threaded ends. A nipple is then threaded onto the spokes, and the spokes inserted into opposing eyelets. The distance between the spoke ends is measured, and 400mm added to the figure. As a rim may not be exactly round, an average is taken from a number of measurements. It's all quite critical, with small tolerances. The spokes I have been given are only 2mm longer than the suggested length, but I would run out of thread before they were tight enough, and the couple of extra millimetres would protrude beyond the end of the nipple. This, in itself is not critical on the rims I am using, as the nipples are set deep in the rim, but a professional would never do this, whatever the circumstances.

As learning curves go, it's been a good one. The groundwork I covered by reading both wheelbuilding books has been solid and useful. Dismantling and relacing the wheel on which I am working has also been a very useful if time consuming exercise.

WHEELBUILDING - AN ART

2010-07-17T15:08:00.002+01:00

My front wheel, sadly not yet built. Laced in a 3x pattern, complete with brass spoke washers (which are worth the extra effort!) only to find the spokes supplied are a few millimetres too long. I have spoken to the bike shop, and they will need to order new spokes at the correct length...

Bugger.

I had hoped to spend some time this weekend building and truing both wheels, but it is not to be. I have tried a 3x lace pattern and a 4x lace pattern, but the supplied spokes are too short for 4x, which I would actually prefer. I may try the 290mm spokes I took from the old rims, just for exercise. I have tried 2 different methods of lacing - Gerd Schraner's and Roger Musson's, and prefer the latter for ease of application, though it only applies to a 3x lace.

Gerd's method can easily be adapted to 2x, 3x and 4x.

Reading wheelbuilding discussion groups is an enlightenment! The word "anal" comes to mind frequently. Each and every theory has an equal and opposite counterpart, and there are certainly no "definitive" answers. No shortage of people demanding them though!

Now, I need to measure my rims and hubs and do a wheel spoke calculation. I may be gone some time!

WHEEL ISSUE RESOLVED

2010-07-15T22:10:00.004+01:00

Today I took delivery of my new rims.

I also have 72 stainless steel spokes and nipples. I am delighted with the rims, described as they are on the Mavic website as "bombproof"; exactly what I wanted. I have lost my new freehub body which disappeared with the old wheel, but I'm happy to put that one down to experience. I'm annoyed at the length of time taken to sort this out, but happy that, once I have built the wheels up, I will have a far superior set of handbuilt wheels, built by my own fair hands. I have placed spoke washers on all the new spokes! Spoke washers!

BACK IN THE WARMTH

2010-07-12T12:39:00.001+01:00

I noticed today that my blog "Coming in from the Cold" was left unfinished. This was the blog I created to document my move to Cardiff. I finished it today. Click on the title to go to the blog.

WORLD CUP OVER!

2010-07-11T22:06:00.002+01:00

Today I have spent most of the day involved in churchy things:

9.30am - 10.30am Holy Eucharist (Anglican, fairly boring).
10.30am - 11.30am PtL*
4.00pm - 5.00pm Sea Sunday**

Between times I have been cooking dinner, printing service sheets and having a bath - quite a busy day all in all, especially for a Sabbath!

I was unable to watch any of the live TdF broadcast during the afternoon, so we watched the highlights between 7 and 8pm. Interestingly, my daughter Jasmine (10) commented;

"It's not fair" as yet another closeup of an unplaced and struggling Lance Armstrong filled our screen.

"What's not?" I asked.

"At school they talked about Wimbledon and they talked about The World Cup, but they haven't talked about the Tour de France!" Good point well made, No. 1 Daughter!

I will supply her with some merchandise so that she can bring up this iniquity herself.

Afterwards, we watched Top Gear, where the running joke was;

"We can say what we like, no-one's watching. The World Cup is live on BBC1 and ITV, who is going to be watching us?" Well, 4 of us were.

After Top Gear, children and wife headed off to feather and flop, and I watched the remaining minutes of the World Cup, just so I'd know what noises to make tomorrow. Just my luck that it should go into extra time. So this is it - the pinnacle of footballing excellence. Players being shown a yellow card for kicking the ball away. Is it the same yellow card every time? Someone got to see it twice, which earned him a red card, and he got to go off early. Ah well, it's all over. It is, now.

*PtL - Praise the Lord, a new initiative led by Phill Needs, a theatrical type with a guitar, held in the Lady chapel after the main Eucharist. Supposed to be a fun learning experience, turned into a battle of wills to keep up with him as he raced through his repertoire. Things will improve, this was the first one.

**Sea Sunday - nationwide (worldwide?) church inititaive. We gathered at the docks with the town silver band and sang rousing hymns, said prayers etc. Well attended, good fun.

TdF 1ST MOUNTAIN STAGE

2010-07-10T16:52:00.005+01:00

Chavanel takes the Yellow Jersey back from Cancellara.

Andy Schleck takes the White Jersey from Geraint Thomas, which is a shame, though he's done it without the usual support of brother Frank Schleck, who is out with a broken collarbone.

Roll on the big mountains! Finish on Morzine!

TEXT COLOUR

2010-07-09T23:57:00.002+01:00

I'm enjoying having a transparent blog with a photograph of a bicycle behind it. I think it looks "right". It has its problems though, the main one being text colour. My Facebook friend Dominique made a comment tonight that the red text was difficult to read, and while it's great that the blog looks good, first and foremost it must be easy to read.

After a little experimentation, I've switched from red to white. What do you think?

FFALD-Y-BRENIN

2010-07-08T12:07:00.002+01:00

The vicar and I are going to a meeting at Ffald-y-Brenin Christian retreat centre today. The meeting is from 3pm to around 8pm. The vicar can't pick me up till 3, as his wife uses the family car, and it won't be back till then.

We were discussing this yesterday, outside the church, in the steadily pouring rain. I was leaning on my bike, ready to come home for lunch. He couldn't wait to get out of the rain and back into the Rectory.

I was going to suggest we cycle.

Ffald-y-Brenin is in the lovely Gwaun Valley, on the edge of the Preseli Hills in North Pembrokeshire, around 25 miles from here - a very pleasant 2 hour ride for me, nearer 3 hours with the Rev in tow on his mountain bike, but he'd never even attempt it. He'd happily go for a 15 mile walk, but getting him on the bike is another matter.

Consequently, we miss an hour of what promises to be a very interesting meeting indeed.

SOME THOUGHTS ON TdF AND LONG DISTANCE CYCLING

2010-07-08T08:15:00.002+01:00

Watching the Tour de France, I become lost in my own thoughts.

I realised a couple of nights ago while watching the Holland v Uruguay World Cup semi-final with a visiting friend that I (and the rest of my family) struggle to watch 22 men kick an air-filled leather bag around a rectangular field for 90ish minutes; we find the concept of cricket, where a single game can last a week, incomprehensible, yet we will happily engross ourselves in the spectacle and politics of a couple of hundred men talking a leisurely three-week cycle tour around foreign countryside.

Speaking personally, I love it because I understand it.

I don't mean I understand all the rules.

I don't mean I understand the crazy goings-on behind the scenes.

I mean I understand "it".

I love cycling long distances, especially over a few consecutive days, where you can really "get into the groove" of cycling. My family don't understand this as yet, though they're perfectly happy to allow me to go off and indulge myself. My two older children will happily cycle 10 miles or so, which is pretty good for a 10 and a 7 year old. They'd probably go further if I took them. The oldest likes to get out in front and just travel along "in her own little world", just like me. I'm looking forward to the time when we can go off together for whole weekends!

People (non-cyclists) look horrified when I tell them how far I like to cycle. Even the average "person-with-a-bike" (as opposed to Cyclists) does. Personally, I don't understand how one can own a bike and still be limited to your home town. Doesn't the desire to travel That Bit Further grab you by the neck and drag you along the nearest exit from town? One of the advantages cycling has over walking is that you can go that much faster, that much further. It's the whole point.

When you know you're going to be in the saddle all day long, you take a very different approach to nipping to the shops:

You check your bike assiduously (if you have any sense).
You dress appropriately. Comfort is everything.
You start off slowly. Energy conservation is paramount.
You make sure you have good stocks of food and drink.

You'll kick off at a nice leisurely pace and allow your muscles to ease into a rhythm, to warm up and speed up naturally, and it's often surprising how quickly you find your pace increasing. Pedalling as lightly as you can, realising how energy-efficient you can be, is a great way to travel.

As you develop your own pace (this is why I prefer solitary cycling - going at my pace rather than that dictated by others) you fall into a rhythm which is dictated by the state of your musculature and you start to maintain that rhythm, regardless of terrain. Shallow inclines start to disappear, as you just increase the power of your pedalling to keep your cadence. You soon get to know which gear you need to be in as a hill approaches, rather than have to suddenly crunch down them halfway up.

Even riding with others, when you're covering a long distance, there is little time for conversation. You are very much "on your own" and it's this I find attractive. I can travel with or without an ipod, though I do prefer to travel with one so I have the choice of silence or a backing track.

A 3-day cycle ride is a guarantee of 3 days of solitude!

If you stop anywhere, say at a roadside burger van for a cup of tea, if you're a trucker or a car driver, the griddle-monkey will have set conversational pieces ready for you "A30 chokker"; "David Cameron? Wankah!" etc, but not for cyclists. They know you want good strong tea. They know the chances are you'll be tempted by the smell of bacon, but beyond fulfilling your needs and taking your money there's no more common ground than between a fish and an ant. They'll usually leave you well alone.

If they do feel the need to make conversation, having stood alone by the roadside all morning, you can always whip out the trusty multitool and start fiddling with something on your bike. If they persist, ask them to hold the chain. This is a last resort, and rarely needs to be deployed. If you're dampened with sweat, they'll usually stay far enough away to render polite conversation impractical.

Obviously, while you're on your bike, the nearest you'll get to meaningful discourse is a motorist shouting at you for taking up too much road at a roundabout and causing them to have to slow down. Hand gestures are perfectly adequate and eloquent by way of reply, and you don't need to shout.

MY BIG RIDE, THE MAP

2010-07-05T08:49:00.004+01:00

Here is the GPS trace from MY BIG RIDE. The Blue section is Day One, the Red section Day Two, and the Green squiggle is Day Three. (where I got lost. The rest of Day Three is mingled in with the Taff Trail)

Below are the related altitude traces.

(Johnston to Carmarthen, and Cardiff back to Pembrokeshire were done by train)

MY BIG RIDE PART 3

2010-07-05T08:13:00.002+01:00

The intention was to cycle from Cardiff back to Pembrokeshire, or at least Carmarthen. I only had my GPS for company, no maps to consult. My experience of NCN cycle routes is that they're usually very well signposted and negate the need for map-carrying. I'd slept well at my friend Colin's and woken early, around 5.30am.

It was a warm and sunny morning, so I lit out around 6, taking the Taff Trail back out of Cardiff to Pontypridd to link up with Route 47 which heads west to Neath and onwards to Carmarthen. Sustrans spent the whole of last year bombarding me with emails about their wonderful "Valleys Network" of cycle trails, so I was looking forward to trying it out.

It didn't work.

Finding Route 47 was harder than it might seem, and involved riding up and down through Abercynon a few times and going off-route through the town, but I did eventually find it. However, after a couple miles I came upon a T junction with a signpost right for "high level" Route 47 but no low-level alternative. I took the high level route and went up some serious gradients along quite lanes, but then the trail went off over a locked gate up a very stony forest trail. After a few miles of this I came upon a motocross trail and asked a couple of guys for directions, but in typical valleys fashion they sent me round in circles. Thanks Lads. Every direction involved a steep hill, and when I finally rejoined so-called civilisation at Mountain Ash, I was getting a bit tired. The sun was high in the heavens, the day was hot, and I had had no breakfast. It was Sunday - there was only a convenience store showing signs of life in Mountain Ash and I managed to buy the worst Cornish Pasty I have ever tasted there. According to the station timetable, there were trains to Cardiff or Aberdare. It was annoying and frustrating to have to go back to Cardiff after wasting so much effort, but getting anywhere else would take even more effort.

I decided to ride back down the trail, and got to Cardiff station with only minutes to spare before the Swansea train. Phew.

TdF

2010-07-04T06:47:00.003+01:00

It's THAT time of year again!

How many families up and down the country are looking forward to being unable to watch Emmerdale/Coronation Street (I refuse to call it Corrie or any other abbreviation)/Eastenders because the highlights of the Tour de France are being shown on ITV4between 7 and 8pm every night?

We are! As a family, we love it.

My wife has had the TdF theme as a ringtone on her phone for the past year. My daughter wears her TdF baseball cap to school with pride.

It's fantastic.

Wimbledon fascinated the kids this year. I usually watch the men's and women's singles finals, but only so as not to be a social leper, and if it's showing signs of going on too long I'll have a kip. Thankyou Serena Williams, I missed my afternoon nap yesterday.

The World Cup is obviously talked about at school, but actually sitting down and watching a game of football is a non-starter in our house. The fidgeting starts before Gary Lineker has opened his mouth. We're NOT INTERESTED in the England Team with their bloated egos and salaries to match. When Germany spanked their arses and sent them home I laughed, I really did.

THREE WEEKS of cycling around a foreign country? Bring It On!

WHEELY GOOD

2010-07-04T06:28:00.001+01:00

My new rims and spokes are being ordered. I will be building the wheels myself.

MY BIG RIDE PART 2

2010-07-03T09:24:00.006+01:00

After a not unreasonable night's sleep, I woke around 6am. I listened again to the Barefoot Doctor's Supercharged Taoist guided meditations and some psalms, did some slow stretching, testing the pressure on my knees. Nothing felt particularly untoward. The morning was overcast and misty. I sorted through all my stuff, then wandered the grounds of the Youth Hostel awaiting breakfast at 8, which was a good one. All the cereal and toast you could eat, a modest fried breakfast, and plenty of tea. Perfect, although I forgot to fill my flask.

I cycled down the canal towpath into Brecon, arriving at the basin by the theatre in plenty of time. I was very surprised when not one but two coachloads of people arrived, along with the Pedal Power van and trailer, and a builder's lorry with bikes piled on the back. I'd expected around 20 people, if that!

Strangely, the only person I recognised was Drew. He made clear that he would probably be the slowest person around the course, so I made the decision that rather than tag along with another rider or a group, I'd lead off and set a good starting pace.

The canal towpath was congested. After a couple of miles the route swings off down country lanes and I was soon free of the crowds and whizzing along. Talybont Reservoir was the first real stopping place, just for a photo. A couple of other cyclists were close behind me and also stopped, but I don't even know if they were on the ride. I kicked off again, along Six Mile Bank

which was very hard going for my thin road tyres. I was caught up by a few people as I stopped to photograph the view; a dad and son combo on full-sus mountain bikes who were rapidly losing steam, and a chap on a hybrid who looked tasty. He kept edging ahead, even when I was talking to him, which I took to be the "tossing of the gauntlet". I tucked in behind him, led him up the sting-in-the-tail climb at the end, and, after a brief water stop at the van, left him for dead on the hill where we rejoined the road, with a tasty option to eat my dust.

It seemed like I'd made Merthyr Tydfil in a matter of minutes, and from here the ride is pretty much all downhill, though progress is severely hampered by the plethora of barriers and chicanes one has to negotiate, particularly between Pontypridd and Cardiff.

(Later that day, my friend Colin asked me "Did you put your stuff on the van?". At first I had no idea what he was talking about, but what he meant was, had I loaded my panniers onto the van in Brecon for them to bring back to Cardiff for me? It hadn't even occurred to me to do that. Shedding the weight would probably have shaved a good 20 minutes off my time anyway, but the extra time spent lifting my panniers over stupid barriers would have probably given me a further 20 minutes at least!)

Arriving at Tongwynlais I met Keith Underdown and stopped for a brief chat, but having no idea how far behind me the next man was, I pressed on.

At the finish, I was a good 20 minutes ahead of second, which quite staggered me. It was commented on that I'd cycled 52 miles in around 4.5 hours and "didn't look bothered". I wasn't.

THE BONK

2010-07-02T21:27:00.003+01:00

No! Not that sort! Ooer!

The Bonk to which I refer is the one to which cyclists allude. "I was on for a well-timed 100k, cruising along quite happily, when around 70k I bonked..." They're not talking about suddenly leaping from their steed to engage in sexual intercourse with anyone who happens to be passing, because:

it would take them too long to get their bib tights off
no-one, in their right mind or otherwise, would let a sweaty cyclist anywhere near them, especially in broad daylight
after 70k they'd rather have a cup of tea.

No, what they're talking about is what I think I experienced on my ride to Brecon. I had been sailing along. I cannot stress how effortless I felt the first 40 miles had been. Admittedly, the hill I ascended at around 45 miles was a complete Bastard on which a wasp started to attack my face, causing me to make a terminal stop on a 16% gradient, but I was still feeling fine as I breasted the hill and began my long and very rapid descent (42mph). I even experienced quite worrying speed wobble, something I seem to have read quite a bit about lately, but similarly, not experienced much before. As the gradient levelled out and I was beginning to have to pedal again, I found my right knee would tolerate NO pressure whatsover without causing me great pain, and I couldn't let my left leg take the strain as the power had drained from every fibre of tendon and muscle. I felt cold-sweaty, mildly dizzy and slightly nauseous. I followed the signs for the Brecon Beacons visitor centre and was soon dismounted and pushing my bike up a seemingly innocuous incline (coming down later I realised it was considerably steeper than I first conceived it to be). Even walking was painful. I made the visitor centre after a long hard struggle and immediately doused my head to cool down and bought a nice big meal - a huge beef pie and salad, which was just what the doctor ordered. It recovered me sufficiently to cruise on into Brecon, but only because the rest of the journey was downhill. I used high strength Ibuleve gel on my knee as soon as I got to a chemist, and when I made the Youth Hostel had a cool shower and went to sleep within minutes. I don't think the Ibuleve had any effect, though the sleep did, and there was no sign of the pain the following morning, though I was ultra cautious for the first few miles.

I put it down to my low-carb diet, which I had been following for a month or so. Ive certainly pushed myself harder than I did that day, but the worst I'd experienced was a mild lethargy and an urge to lay down and go to sleep somewhere. Nothing like this. It was a bit scary, if I'm honest.

MY BIG RIDE, PART 1

2010-07-01T22:23:00.003+01:00

I haven't told you about my Big Ride yet! Sorry!

My "training" and preparations were quite badly disrupted by the disintegration of my rear road wheel (see previous posts) so I wasn't feeling very confident come the day, and had the feeling I might have overstretched myself. Rather than run the risk of exhausting or injuring myself on the first day, I decided I would take the train to Carmarthen (about 30 miles) and start my cycle from there. Trains from here start at 7.05 and get into Carmarthen around 8.15am. It's usually quite a full train and fairly unpleasant. There is often only one old and dirty carriage. From Milford Haven, just across the river, the first train is at 6am, and is always a newer, larger train, so I decided to cycle 5 miles along the Brunel Trail and catch the train at Johnston, getting me to Carmarthen for 7am.

The sun was just over the horizon and heading towards a fairly cloudless sky as I left the house for a hasty scoot over the bridge (left it a bit late) but I made the station with a good 10 minutes to spare. The train was spacious, and I cocooned myself in my ipod and read my bible. I listened to some inspirational mediations from The Barefoot Doctor, and I'm actually convinced that these made all the difference to my physical and mental well being!

At Carmarthen, the sky was a good deal cloudier and there was an early morning mist hugging the hills, but the sun was fighting its way through. The chilliness was welcome, and I headed out along the main A40 through Llandeilo and Llandovery towards my destination at Brecon.

I stopped at two roadside chuck wagons, having a bacon roll at the first, and just a cup of tea at the second, and despite taking my time I was astounded at the time I was making. Arriving at Sennybridge around 12.30pm with only 10 miles to go, I decided to take the longer route via the Brecon Beacons visitor centre, which involved an extra 10 miles and a couple of serious climbs, the second of which saw my knee collapse beneath me.

As I turned off the main road to take the road to the visitor centre, me energy drained from me completely. My right knee quickly became excruciatingly painful, and at one point just would not turn. It was all I could do to push the bike, though I did get back on and make it up to the visitor centre (note: two signs, about a mile apart, both indicating 1.5 miles cannot be right...).

I found the cafe and had a HUGE beef pie and salad with a pot of tea - perfect. I sat around for a while waiting for the pain in my knee to subside, but it showed no signs of abating, so I headed off again. Fortunately the whole 5 or 6 miles into Brecon were downhill.

Upon arrival I found a chemist and bought some Ibuleve extra strength gel and some paracetamol and headed out to find the Youth Hostel, which is a couple of miles out in the middle of nowhere, but well signposted.

NEW WHEELS!

2010-07-01T22:15:00.003+01:00

The bike shop phoned today. I can have new wheels built. They will accept my front wheel back and credit me with enough to enable the shop to build me a couple of decent touring wheels. This is a good outcome.

THE MISSING WHEEL

2010-06-30T18:52:00.002+01:00

I spoke to the bike shop again today. Madison have "credited me with a new wheel" but as yet we don't know how much this is! I have asked if they will also credit me with the front wheel, as it's part of a set, and I'm now left with a fairly useless wheel. I've also asked if the old wheel can be returned because my new freehub body is on there. We shall see, though I don't hold out much hope on the latter, really, as they've probably binned the wheel by now.

I've asked if new rims can be built around my old large-flange Dura-Ace hubs. Yes, Dura-Ace. Very old Dura-Ace, but still in excellent condition. This is currently being looked into, as it will involve more spokes (both front and rear are 36 spoke hubs), so somewhere along the line I expect this to cost me money, which I don't actually have.

Using the old hubs means I have to go back to using a 6 speed freewheel block rather than an 8 speed cassette. I intend to take the Stronglight triple chainset off and replace with smaller rings anyway as I just do not use big gears anymore, so I don't see any problem with losing a few gears along the way. It will lighten the load. Imagine, a mere 18 gears!

THE BRUNEL RIDE

2010-06-30T06:50:00.002+01:00

The yearly Brunel Cycle Ride runs, obviously enough, between Johnston and Neyland in Pembrokeshire, along the course of an old railway line now called The Brunel Cycle Trail. In previous years I've had the thankless task of helping to organise the event and get people there to help and to marshall. This year I declined, making it clear that I would be there with my children and that having an enjoyable time with them would be my sole intention.

Getting there is hard work. From Pembroke Dock one has to cycle over the Cleddau bridge (Pont Cleddau) and the smaller Westfield Bridge. There is a very nice wide cycle path alongside the main A477 across both bridges and despite the steep hill to the bridge the ride is very pleasant. After crossing Westfield Bridge, the Brunel Trail can be accessed via The Zigzag. This is a gravel path which descends with steps down a very steep embankment. To get me, my children and our cycles down there is a logistical nightmare and very strenuous. It involves leaving two cycles and a child at the top, descending halfway with the other child and their cycle. I then leave that child on a bench while I return to the top for the two other bikes and the other child. These I take all the way down, then return for the first child. Much of the gravel has been washed from beneath the concrete steps by rain, making the steps very high for little legs. Pembrokeshire County Council have apparently secured £250,000 of funding to improve access here, but frankly I'll believe it when I see it.

Rather than use the Zigzag, we continue half a mile or so up the road to Honeyborough Roundabout, where we turn off the main road and cycle down into the village of Neyland. The road itself is quite dangerous with fast and heavy traffic, but we can get off the road quite quickly and onto Neyland Vale, a traffic-free route down to the river. The whole ride is probably an extra 2 miles, but worth the effort.

We had been told that this year's ride was to start and finish at Johnston School, so we had timed our arrival so we could meet with the riders as they turned around at Neyland Marina and ride back with them. As it turned out, everyone stopped for refreshments, and then straggled back when they felt ready,so we headed off with the lead party. The ride is about 4 miles with a very slight uphill gradient the whole way, and Jasmine (10) and Dylan (7) were both red-faced and sweating by the time we arrived.

The return is a lovely downhill coast, so I suggested seeing how far along the trail we could go without having to pedal. This slowed the pace nicely. We discovered that the only times we needed to pedal was where the trail crossed roads and we had to slow down to pass through gates.

When we returned to Neyland we took the same route back, though I did offer them the option of the Zigzag as we came past. They preferred to cycle.

Altogether, we probably covered around 14 miles on a Sunday morning.

Please click on the title to take you to my flickr page for some photos of the event.

THE ONGOING SAGA OF THE WHEEL

2010-06-29T22:37:00.003+01:00

Realising I hadn't heard back from the bikeshop regarding the damaged rear wheel, I spoke to them today to be told that Madison have "credited" me with a rear wheel, as they accept that the wheel should not be in that condition, but they do not actually have a replacement wheel for me! (They're one of the UK's major cycling wholesalers, and they don't have any wheels???)

The shop are happy to build me a new wheel, with better components, but it's not going to look anything like the front wheel. I don't much like the wheels anyway, the spokes are very difficult to adjust, being aeroblade spokes (flattened so as to be aerodynamic). So, they've ordered the parts for a new wheel. We'll see how long this bit takes. I shall also endeavour to get the old wheel back so I can reclaim the brand new freehub body I put on it.

TECHNICAL PROBLEMS FURTHERED...

2010-06-22T13:50:00.003+01:00

Turns out it was the rim on my rear wheel splitting in 2... cracks were spreading laterally from the spoke eyelets. I took the wheel back to Bierspool Cycles, where I bought it around a year ago. They sent it back to Madison, the suppliers, but they haven't returned it yet. Bierspool did "lend" me a wheel, with which to do my Big Ride (more later); the wheel they "lent" me was the old wheel I'd left with them when I'd bought the current set. The bearings had completely gone. They'd since put a new axle and bearings in, but as predicted, there was a lot of wear on the hub races, and the axle worked itself loose during the second day of riding. It got me there and back, which is what mattered.

A BAD DAY

2010-05-23T22:50:00.002+01:00

Today was to be a day of cycling and fishing - cycling leisurely around in the morning sun, then meeting up with a friend later for my first ever fishing lesson, only it didn't quite turn out that way. My cycling mitts went missing. A small thing, you might think, but no. I have two functioning pairs and either one would do, but only one mitt was found. Our house is so small, so chaotic, that finding something like a fingerless glove goes well beyond needle-in-haystack territory. I was seriously pissed off. Voices were raised, and not just mine. There was no way I was even going to attempt any serious distance without padding on my ulnar nerves - I suffer badly with wrist pain and pins-and-needles at the best of times, so that got cancelled in a fit of fury, and I almost cancelled the fishing trip when I found I couldn't get a lift, but thought better of it, and cycled the 10 or so miles to meet my friend, who'd gone to the trouble of sorting me out some tackle. It was quite enjoyable, even though we didn't catch anything, and we spent a pleasurable couple of hours clambering around on the cliffs just south of Tenby and learning to cast a line. The rock climbing took its toll on my knees, and left me in quite severe pain by the time I got home, which was a little worrying. I'm still ridiculously stressed by an accumulation of things today, and pray it passes quickly so I can get some sleep.

A TECHNICAL PROBLEM

2010-05-19T07:14:00.002+01:00

While in Cardiff, my touring bike started making an intermittent noise, which seemed to emanate from the back wheel. It sounded like a loose cable was dangling against the spokes, and seemed to come and go at random.

As I started to use the mountain bike more, due to the appalling road surfaces, the road bike got hung up in the workshop and the noise was forgotten.

Back in Pembrokeshire, and preparing for my Big Ride, the noise has got steadily worse.

I knew the wheel was slightly out of true due to a large and deep pothole on Newport Road, and as I put that right, I thought I detected something rattling around inside the rim, which might have accounted for the noise. Giving the wheel a good shake with the inner tube removed seemed to have got rid of any foreign objects.

However, even though the wheel in the stand was turning freely and silently, as soon as I got on the bike, the noise was back.

I changed the bearings, even though there was nothing visibly wrong with the old ones. No difference.

As I was putting the wheel back in the frame, I noticed that the cassette wasn't turning as smoothly as it might, which would indicate a problem with the freehub body. In a word, Bugger.

I've ordered a new one from Edinburgh Bicycle Cooperative, (another £27 I don't have) who are great with delivery, but it's still going to take a few vital days, and then there's all the buggering around getting it fitted again. I was tempted to take the freehub body from my XTR hub, but it's just too good to squander.

BIKEOLOGY

2010-05-16T08:27:00.002+01:00

I've been hired to do a course on basic bike maintenance at the local school (teaching adults, not children). It's all a bit last minute and farcical. The original idea was to do 6 sessions of 2 hours each, but with the imminent arrival of the Cycling Proficiency Test, this has been hacked down to 3 weeks, which obviously means I'll have to omit such vital lectures as "Does the frame stand on the wheels or do the wheels hang from the frame?"

Given the time-scale, I'll be amazed if anyone turns up. If anyone DOES turn up, they'll have been emotionally blackmailed into coming by the organisers, and will have about as much interest in bike maintenance as I have in Fiscal Policy.

SUSTRANS

2010-05-10T06:07:00.002+01:00

Over the past year or so I've become very disenfranchised with Sustrans. While I entirely commend and support what they do, and what they stand for, I don't like the way the Ranger Programme is being managed. Being a Liaison Ranger is a thankless task with few rewards. Not that rewards or recognition are what I'm after.

It seems to me that the vast majority of Sustrans Rangers are completely inactive (other Liaison Rangers corroborate this) yet the Sustrans Volunteer coordinators are loathe to do anything about this, which I personally find disrespectful to the few of us who are actively working for them.

When I moved to Cardiff I was welcomed by the local Liaison Ranger, who was delighted that there was someone else prepared to roll his sleeves up.

Now I've moved back to Pembrokeshire I'm not feeling so enthusiastic.

I'm quite prepared to sit on the sidelines and watch what happens. I'm sure it won't take much of my attention.

REVIVAL

2010-05-10T05:49:00.003+01:00

Hello again dear blog.

It's been much longer than I thought, and much has happened.

I have moved away in search of work and a new life for my family, and I have returned, though not quite empty handed.

I was in Cardiff for three months. On my first visit to the Jobcentre, the first job which came up on a jobpoint was a vacancy for a cycle mechanic and hire operator for a local charity, The Pedal Power Project. I knew the job was mine. A month later I started work.

Two months later I had to leave.

Accommodation problems, and domestic unease, meant I had to beat a somewhat hasty retreat to Pembrokeshire. My lovely family are delighted to have me home, but I'm again unemployed with little chance of employment any time soon. To quote the late, great Warren Zevon: "Oh no, these Blues are gonna rub me raw..."

FELLOWSHIP

2009-07-01T14:45:00.002+01:00

I made a decision yesterday that I need to get out more (mainly on my bike) so came up with a "brand" of ride that I can promote within (and without) Sustrans - the "Fellowship Ride" - inviting Sustrans Rangers and other people to come along on a short ride (Wednesday evenings) and longer rides (Saturdays). I have mailed this out to the other Rangers and had the usual response from the usual 2 who show enthusiasm. However, I will not be thwarted by the miserable wretches who do not leave their homes for anything other than a free meal! If no-one turns up, I get to do the ride myself anyway, so what do I lose?

UNEMPLOYED?

2009-06-30T13:59:00.003+01:00

A musing on the nature of unemployment... it has been around 6 weeks since I did any paid work. I made a claim for Jobseeker's Allowance as soon as I became unemployed, but at my preliminary interview it was clear that my claim would probably be disallowed unless I got a sicknote from my doctor, which I duly did. This resulted in my claim being transferred to one for E.S.A (Employment and Support Allowance) which is a revamped version of Incapacity Benefit. I'm not entirely comfortable with claiming benefit, but my doctor is happy to provide me with sicknotes while we explore what might or might not be wrong with me. I certainly don't like telling people I am unemployed, it is not a status which sits happily with me. While unemployed I am far from idle - my voluntary work with Sustrans continues apace; if anything, with renewed vigour. My church work continues also, though somewhat slower.

When one is employed, there is a sense of belonging, and a sense of status and self-worth which is absent among the unemployed. All you belong to is the dole queue.

I "belong" to the fellowship of my Church. I "belong" to the Sustrans Movement. I "belong" to a Bible Study Group. I "belong" to God.

I do a lot of things, so why then do I feel a sense of shame?

My health conditions do prevent me from working full-time. I can no longer call myself a "writer" or a "poet", having had impenetrable writer's block for over 5 years.

I cannot remember the last time I painted anything. Really.

I don't like to admit that my health is a barrier. I can, with a great deal of preparation and effort, cycle around 60 miles in a single stretch, more than many people can do. I'm usually ill for a while afterwards, but it seems worth the sacrifice at the time, it's a good feeling, especially when done with good friends.

HELLO! HOORAY!

2009-06-26T13:09:00.002+01:00

I've decided to rekindle this blog, as things are once more starting to grind me down. Since leaving the bikeshop I have spent some time working for Lidl here in Pembroke Dock as a "caretaker", which is a bit of a misnomer, as all I did was clean, but it was from 6am to 10am, and I actually enjoyed the job, even though it was by far the most soulless place in which I have worked, and staff morale was an alien concept. I left there a couple of months ago after a contretemps with a pompous buffoon of an area manager (my favourite quote was: "It's not a good idea to raise your voice to me, I'm the Area Manager!" Twit.

Since then I've been claiming Employment and Support Allowance, which is the new Incapacity Benefit, while trying (in vain) to get some proper diagnoses of my various illnesses and conditions. This is made more complicated and traumatic with my tried, tested and tame GP due to leave the practice any minute, and there have been discussions with various practice managers, deputy managers, doctors, receptionists, mostly conducted in loud voices to try and resolve the issue of continuity of care.

So, you rejoin me with no real job to speak of, no real "healthcare professional" to tell me what is wrong with me, and in a fairly downtrodden mood.

I am still the Sustrans Volunteer Liaison Ranger for Pembrokeshire, though that is also currently hanging in the balance. I am also quite closely involved with church, and this too is a source of depression and anxiety at the moment, for a variety of reasons.

I am a member of a Bible Study Group which meets weekly. This, surprisingly, is a source of strength and encouragement to me. (I say surprisingly, because when I joined the group 6 months ago I did not expect to form such strong bonds with people so quickly).

BLACKOUT

2009-02-20T18:23:00.000Z

BACK TO BLACK

2008-09-30T19:45:00.002+01:00

Saturday 28th September 2008 was my last day at the bike shop - I don't think anyone was happy with anyone else, and it was best to end it now before any bitterness or recriminations set in. This way we remain friends. I've described it to close friends as being stuck in a malfunctioning submarine with no-one but Jim Davidson and a flatulent Jeanette Krankie for company (and a snoring dog, also immensely flatulent), but this is perhaps doing a disservice to the female half of the Krankies. At best it was claustrophobic, at worst unbearable, and they probably began to feel the same about me. I was often expected to play the role of marriage guidance counsellor, but refused to be drawn into it. I enjoyed the work, but found the hours an immense drain on my time and resources - I'd arrive home at 6ish, have my dinner, fall asleep, and when I woke up the wife and kids would be in bed, and that would be my lot day upon day. Having a day off in the week gave me some luxurious time to myself, but meant I had to sacrifice a family Saturday, which was hard.
I hated dealing with the public, and would go so far as to say I couldn't actually cope with it. I've always been a backroom boy - chef, promoter, call-centre monkey; if the workshop had been separate from the shop I'd have been much happier.
I became so very tired I made stupid mistakes. This is still a worry to me, and I have mentioned this to my doctor, who has re-prescribed antidepressants, which I have started today, so henceforth a couple of weeks of side-effects with no fun attached.
I also experienced a lot of pain in my hands and feet, which we put down to arthritic pain and treated with Cod Liver Oil and Glucosamine, which has made a notable difference to my hands, but not so much to my feet. My hips also have a tendency to seize up when I'm sedentary or prone for lengthy periods.
It's an awkward time to become unemployed as my wife only gets paid for 10 months of the year, so after her paycheck at the end of this week she gets no pay till January. Very convenient for us! Something will turn up.

PARTIALLY SIGHTED

2008-07-08T20:15:00.001+01:00

I've had a big problem with Specsavers.
Here's the letter I delivered to the "Director" this morning.
It got me 2 pairs of varifocal lenses considerably upgraded, a free pair of
singlevision reading glasses in �85 frames, and �40 off my original bill.
Worth writing then.

Specsavers,

Dimond Street

Pembroke Dock.Dear Mr ****,

*Re: Complaint about Customer Service.*My complaint begins on 21st June 2008, when I came to the Pembroke Dock
branch of Specsavers with the intention of ordering some new varifocal
spectacles.

I selected frames and went through the ordering process, but I was told it
would not be possible for me to pay a deposit, I would have to pay the full
amount before the specs could be ordered, and that this was company policy.
I was annoyed about this being stated at the end of the process, as it meant
that I had to wait until Thursday 26th June before the order could be sent
off. Prior to my sight test, I had broken my only pair of varifocal glasses,
and the only standby pair I have are an old pair of single vision glasses,
which are fine for distance, but no good whatsoever for close work. However,
it was made very clear to me that full payment had to be made before the
order could be processed, so I arranged to take some time off work the
following Thursday to enable me to come in and place the order.

I was informed at the time that due to the technician being on holiday have
to be sent away to be made up, and would take between a week and ten days to
be delivered to Pembroke Dock.

I explained at the time that I am a cycle mechanic and need glasses for
close vision as well as distance, and that I had had to struggle with single
vision lenses for a week already. I was assured that a note would be put on
the order asking for it to be dispached as soon as possible, though I now
know this was not done.

I was informed of the various offers, and chose to take the 2 for 1 deal,
with my main glasses having slimmer lenses, and the second pair having a
tint.

I paid in cash and was told I would be contacted by phone when my glasses
were ready for collection.

I found my work very difficult, particularly tasks such as trueing wheels
and adjusting brakes, which require constant close vision.

I phoned on Friday 4th July to check whether my spectacles had arrived, and
was told that they would definitely be there by Monday. I do not know to
whom I spoke.

When I phoned today, I spoke to Penny, who seemed surprised that no-one had
phoned me, as there was a note attached to my order saying that the lenses I
had ordered were no longer available. I knew this would mean that no
spectacles were available for collection, and that it would mean a further
delay, and I got quite angry on the phone, which was wrong of me.

Penny explained that there was no point in me coming to the shop as there
was no-one there who was able to do anything, which I thought was a lie, so
I went along to the shop in an attempt to get a resolution, as I had
deliberately organised the day off work, having been assured my glasses
would be ready for collection.

When I discovered that Penny was actually telling the truth about the
complete lack of staff I was utterly disgusted, and demanded that she get
someone like an area manager on the phone.

I was offered a full refund, which I declined, as that would do nothing to
help my predicament.

After some negotiation, we arrived at a temporary solution, whereby they
would make me some near-vision glasses overnight to help in my work while my
new glasses were made. This was far from an ideal solution, but the only
practicable one under the circumstances.

I arranged for my wife to collect them the next day, but as I was cycling
home it occurred to me that something might be done with the lenses from my
old varifocals.

I was told that it probably wouldn't be possible to transfer them to new
frames, as it would involved trimming off the bottom of the lens, but we
agreed it would be worth a try as there was nothing to be lost, and another
Penny agreed to do the work after her lunchbreak.

When I returned later, I discovered that throughout all this, a pair of
glasses for me had been upstairs the whole time; the second pair I had
ordered with the tint.

So, more by accident than design, I finally ended up with a pair of glasses
I can use for work, even though they have a tint which will still make
things difficult. It will be nice to be able to see properly after
struggling for over 3 weeks.

Today has been a far more stressful day than I would choose for a day off.

I feel I am owed at the very least an explanation as to the following
questions:

Why is it essential for a fee to be paid in full before the order can be
processed, when I was willing to leave a sizeable cash deposit?

Why was I sold a set of lenses which are not available?

Why was I assured that the urgency of my situation would be noted on the
order, only for it to be completely ignored?

Why was I told on the telephone that my glasses would definitely be
available for collection today when that was clearly not the case?

Why were a pair of glasses delivered to the store and no-one informed?

Why was there no-one available to deal with my grievances at the time?Of the three people I dealt with today I have nothing but praise. They
handled a very difficult situation very well, and I am delighted with the
service I received from them, but I am disgusted with your managerial
system. That the shop should be left so understaffed is appalling, and I
hope you pass on my compliments to the staff who were there.

I fully intend to post my feelings about this incident online, on my own
blogs, and on sheriffratings.com, which lists Specsavers as a business,
though in the interests of fairness I shall await your response before
posting.I would appreciate a response at your earliest convenience, and I would
also appreciate receipt of my correct glasses as soon as possible, with the
minimum of disruption to my working week.Regards, the hobo

FULL TIME

2008-06-23T22:14:00.002+01:00

Today I started full-time, permanent, proper employment at the bike shop. Most of this month has been spent working there, so it seemed the right step to take. The house is sxtill a mess, although most of the hallway, the smallest bedroom and part of my workshop is decorated. I have had little time for anything else, though I have managed to write an article for Sustrans, and an article about Sustrans for the parish magazine. I have also found a few spare hours on a Friday evening to go to the pub and drink beer; a seemingly long forgotten pastime.
It seems this blog is well named - the more involved I become in The World Of Cycling, the happier I get.

CONTINUED

2008-05-30T06:58:00.002+01:00

...OK so the big chairs are finally out of the house, but still awaiting collection and disposal, as is the old telly and a few other sticks and bits, and there is more room within the house as a result. Or is there...?
An inflatable gaming chair with speakers and dock for an MP3 has been bought and inflated and is very popular with the children. Unfortunately a bit too small for me.
Kitchen units and a worktop have provided Jasmine with an 8ft desk in her room and replaced her wardrobe.
In moving living room furniture, we uncovered a living breathing growing patch of mould on the living room wall below the window, which necessitated the removal of a large section of wallpaper, and led to the stripping of the whole wall and the removal of the accursed dado rail. This has now progressed along the wall to my workshop/study room (the redecorating, not the mould, which hopefully has been forever banished).
My shed is still full of chipboard panelling, the workshop/study still full of Mrs H's stuff, and bikes have no home at the moment. This is a very inconvenient state of affairs, but not one which can be rushed. The redecorating has to be done before cupboards and shelves can be attached to walls, and the redecorating is what is taking the time. If only I didn't have a job!

T-T-TEMPUS FUGIT

2008-05-29T23:04:00.002+01:00

I can't believe how long it is since I last posted on here. It's all been hectic and change and flux and chaos...
I got the job at the bike shop, and have worked every possible hour since. I'm still enjoying it.
We were given a whole suite of kitchen furniture - units, cupboards, worktops etc, which needed to be incorporated into the structure of the house post haste, and this sparked a whole chain reaction of events which has turned the whole house upside down and given it a good shake, so things like springcleaning and redecorating have been high on the domestic agenda. To understand the scale of the operation, you have to understand the sheer cramped chaos of a six-piece family in a 3 bed council house. To move something, you first need somewhere to move it to. Inevitably, to create this space, something else has to be moved somewhere else, and so on ad infinitem, ad nauseam, add it all up and take something away.
What should have been taken away were two enormous armchairs. The size of these beauties cannot be overstated. We bought them from one of Mrs H's work colleagues back in Leicester, and at the time I had an Astra estate, which was pretty good for shifting stuff. The contents of my flat probably took 3 or 4 trips when we moved into the house, but these chairs had to be moved one at a time, so cumbersome was their bulk. So sturdy their build and so comfortable their cushions, that it was a hard choice to get rid of them, but they did take up a great deal of space. Some community police people actually helped get them out of the door, on a day when Frame, the local furniture recycling charity, was supposed to be out and about collecting furniture in the community, only they did not and have still not collected our chairs. (to be continued...)

EVENING STROLLS

2008-05-13T23:43:00.002+01:00

The current spell of delightful weather has forced everyone out of doors, and while it means we're plagued with un-neighbourly noise, they have forced us out of our home in the evenings. Last night I dragged everyone out for a walk. As we set off up the hill, both Oliver and Mavis were constantly asking where we were going, obviously puzzled by the fact that we were going out at bedtime. We did a short circular walk which included a play in the park, and we were all better for it. Unfortunately the neighbour noise had not abated in the slightest, nor did it do so until after 9pm.
Tonight I took Jasmine and Dylan (and camera) while tired Olver and Mavis went to bed. We covered the same route and returned about 7.30pm. The neighbours, who had been noticeably and pleasantly silent earlier, were back in full voice, so I decided to take a short bike ride and take some more photos, something I haven't done for what seems like a very long time. It reminded me of all that was good about living here.

AN UNFITTTING END

2008-05-12T22:02:00.002+01:00

Our next-door-but-one neighbours are making our lives hell with constant noise. Here is tonight's entry to the Noise Diary I will be sending to the Police, the Council and anyone else who will listen.
"FROM THE MOMENT I ARRIVED HOME FROM WORK AT AROUND 4PM, THERE WAS SHOUTING, SCREAMING AND THE NOISE OF THE TRAMPOLINE. THERE ARE CURRENTLY 6 ADULTS AND 6 CHILDREN OUT THERE, ALL SHOUTING AND YELLING. EVEN WITH THE TELEVISION TURNED UP UNCOMFORTABLY LOUD WE CANNOT DROWN OUT THIS NOISE, AND WE CANNOT EVEN SIT DOWN TO EAT OUR DINNER IN PEACE. IF WE SO MUCH AS LOOK OUT OF OUR WINDOW WE ARE JEERED AT AND INSULTED. MORE RUBBISH HAS BEEN DUMPED OVER THE BACK OF THEIR FENCE IN THE WOODLAND; WOODEN STAKES LARGE PLASTIC CHILDRENS' TOYS AND A TRASHED COMPOSTING BIN NOW GRACE OUR VIEW. AT 6PM WE WENT FOR A WALK AS WE COULDN'T STAND ANY MORE BUT HAD TO RETURN AT 7PM AS THE 3 YEAR OLD TWINS WERE READY TO GO TO BED. THE NOISE IS NOW WORSE THAN IT WAS EARLIER, AND THERE ARE MORE PEOPLE IN THE GARDEN. IT WOULD BE POINTLESS TO COMPLAIN DIRECTLY AS THE ADULTS ARE ALL DRINKING HEAVILY. 20:15 I HAVE BEEN WEARING HEADPHONES FOR THE PAST HOUR TO BLOCK OUT THE NOISE, WHICH CONTINUES JUST AS LOUDLY AS BEFORE. CHILDREN ARE NOW GOING INTO THE TREES AT THE BACK OF OUR GARDEN, AND THEIR YORKSHIRE TERRIERS ARE YAPPING CONSTANTLY."

MONDAY CONFUSION

2008-05-12T21:32:00.002+01:00

After an unexpectedly hectic weekend assembling kitchen units, dissembling wardrobes and generally turning the house upside down, I awoke on Monday morning with a sore throat and numerous aches and pains, all of which called out for the soothing balm of a painkiller. Tramadol in the evening is a very effective way of attaining comfort, and then sleep, but in the morning it is the quickest route to baffledom and fuzzytown that I know of.
I knew I needed to establish the time and date of my appointment with my surgeon, and spent a fruitless half hour searching for the appointment letter, before deciding to phone work and tell them I would be a little late. The letter would not be found, so I phoned the hospital to discover that my appointment was booked for today at 11am! Fortunately, it was at the local hospital, a short bikeride away. My intention had been to cancel the appointment, but I was obviously too late for this, so I decided I may as well see the surgeon, even though the problems I had encountered six months ago were long gone.
The surgeon was delighted with my progress, and told me to continue to live as normal, with no fear of the hernias returning.

After my appointment I rode over to work, and had a pleasant afternoon trueing wheels and adjusting brakes.

We discussed the week, and I explained my commitments, and there was no hassle. My work-life balance is restored, I am a happy man.

BUSY SATURDAY

2008-05-10T21:32:00.002+01:00

Having worked at the bike shop again on Friday, I decided that Friday night was as good a time as any celebrate recent events, and we arranged a babysitter, and went to our local pub for a few beers and games of pool, which was very pleasant. We got home around midnight to find Jasmine and Dylan still up watching the Simpsons. We packed them off to bed quite easily, and went to bed ourselves. I woke around 6am with the current cough in full spate, and couldn't get back to sleep, so got up.
I was asked later if I could assist with the moving of some kitchen units we'd been given a while ago. This involved getting them out of a lockup garage a few streets away, loading them into a trailer and unloading them into our front "garden". It took two trips and the result overspilled into the street, constructed cupboards, doors, panels, shelves, and an 8' by 2'6" worktop, so hardly a stroll in the park, but I managed it with no worrying twinges. I managed to blag a decent electric screwdriver out of it, to make the job easier, not all effort was in vain. The day then consisted of emptying the shed into the living room, filling up the shed with stuff from the garden, emptying the living room into the garden in order to have somewhere to eat dinner, then making sure everything was inside that needed to be, before retiring to bed at around 7.30pm, knackered but glorious.
The reason I'm describing this in such detail is that it is probably the most strenuous and hectic day I've had in a very long time, and it did me no harm. I'm aching now, but with the honest ache of hard physical work, nothing sinister, which leads me to the conclusion that it is the three years of almost constant inactivity sitting at a civil service desk which has been the source of most of my woes; physical, mental, spiritual. If I sit down for too long, I seize up, particularly around my hips. If I stay active, I don't.
Some of the cupboards have been installed beneath the stairs, some will go in my shed, and some will replace the delapidated wardrobe in the kids' bedroom. The 8' worktop will not fit in my shed, but will fit in the kids' room, so no need to carve it up, and I can use a shorter piece as a workbench in the shed.
Tomorrow's work is mapped out. As is Monday's, back at the bike shop.

NEW JOB

2008-05-08T22:50:00.002+01:00

Today I started work at the bike shop. I have mostly been fitting new brake and gear cables, fixing punctures, fitting new chains etc, and it has been marvellous. I couldn't get enough of it, didn't want to stop for lunch, got my hands good and dirty (for once the dirt beneath my fingernails was not from the keys of a computer keyboard), and am glad to be going back tomorrow. I was born to do this. I ache everywhere, but don't care.

THE LETTER

2008-05-07T13:34:00.000+01:00

Hi J***, Hi A***,
Thank you for accepting my resignation, as indicated in my email yesterday.
Obviously it is not a decision I have taken lightly.
Firstly, I would like to thank you both for all the help and support you have given me during what has been a very difficult time for me and my family, and I hope neither of you feels let down by my decision. I would also like to thank the team for being a good bunch to work with and for their help and support when I tried to return to work on a part-time basis.
The reasons for my resignation are fairly obvious, but I would like to clarify them, in the hope that my views might be of help in the future.
I have felt throughout the whole course of my complaint against Mike Kelly that the management position has favoured his side, and deep down I fully expected that the decision would go against me from the start. The stress of the whole situation has had a very detrimental effect on my health and family life, and I do not feel that this has received any consideration beyond the contact centre, where I am just another number shouting over the barricades. I feel that DWP as a whole both ignores and accepts bullying and harassment as a part of working life, and so is prepared to do nothing about it. I am also disgusted with how PCS union has handled the situation, and cancelled my subscription some time ago, but I know this is not your business directly.
My decision came when I decided that whatever principle was at stake, it was not worth pursuing if it would be detrimental to my health, and I felt that if I returned to work I would be victimised by other union representatives and other members of my team, in particular Mitch Rushton, who made a spectacularly incomplete and inaccurate witness statement, which the investigators obviously decided was better than having no witnesses at all.
I feel that, whatever guidance and procedure states, I would be stigmatised for making a complaint, and I would not receive any support from the union as the complaint was against one of their officers, and this makes my position in the Contact Centre completely untenable.

regards
Jim

A FREE MAN

2008-05-07T12:18:00.002+01:00

A while ago now I dropped a hint at the local bike shop that I would be interested in replacing their lost mechanic, who had gone off to deliver tellies. At the time Mike said that he thought he was "sorted", and I left it hanging.
He has just phoned me today to ask if I could do some repair work for him on a casual basis, so I'm going in tomorrow to see how we get on. I'm sure all will be well. It feels right.

A FREE MAN?

2008-05-07T10:17:00.002+01:00

I have resigned. In high dudgeon.
Yesterday's meeting was a far worse travesty than I was capable of imagining, full of "the procedure doesn't allow..." and "if it was within the timescale..." and "you're fucking joking!" and "this is outfuckingrageous". I did try to curtail my outbursts, but it was an uphill task, and this Bozo was paid to come all the way from Newcastle to tell me what he'd already decided, which could have easily been done by email.
When I came out of the meeting, I had a small and restrained rant at John, my direct manager, about which I felt terrible, as he is such a nice bloke, but he needed to hear it.
So, free from the restraints of being a Civil Servant (God how I loathe and despise that job title) I can now state quite loudly and not-so-proudly that the Department of Work and Pensions supports and condones Harassment and Bullying in the workplace. It doesn't just turn a blind eye, it is fully aware of what is going on and is happy to do absolutely fuck all about it. Let's face it, the whole Department is nothing but one big corporate bully, so why should it differ in attitude towards its staff? I despise the entire system and every bastard who administers it.
PCS Union is equally guilty. Racism, discrimination, bigotry, bullying and harassment are rife in its ranks, all the way to the top. I was summoned to Leeds for my allegations to be heard - how could I expect a fair hearing when I was interviewed by a very loud, obnoxious and obvious bully? (I'm referring here to Jane Aitchison. I think names should be named.)
I have just been phoned by my line manager, to ask whether my email, which said "I have no option but to tender my resignation" should be taken as notice of resignation, or would I be putting it in a letter.
I think a letter would be appropriate, under the circumstances.

THE WHEELS OF INDUSTRY

2008-05-06T09:29:00.002+01:00

Today, I am finally having my appeal heard in my Bullying and Harassment case. This has been dragging on from November '07. It has contributed greatly to my current state of health. It is causing arguments at home. I am thoroughly disgusted with every step of the "procedure", and it seems to me that the time taken has only served to give Mike Kelly a chance to organise his defence. I intend to make my feelings as plain as possible, before telling them where they can stick their job. I still feel like he has "won", and that the system is set up to allow him to do so, but I'm not prepared to go much further with this. My belief in "justice" is already threadbare, so why not just throw out the carpet? If I "let it go", what then? Will I be able to "move on" (how I hate this contemporary jargon! I'm sure you "hear what I'm saying".)
Now I'm starting to get back to fitness, I should start to feel better within myself, but it just doesn't seem to be happening. I feel a complete lack of support from my wife, which merely fuels the paranoia. So, where now?

TO SEE OURSEL'S AS OTHERS SEE US

2008-05-04T14:10:00.003+01:00

In church this morning I found myself being discussed by a couple of the older women. First I was asked if I'd seen myself in the paper, something to do with taking part in a big cleanup operation. The other then commented on this "Mystery Cyclist" who kept whizzing past her house. She then went on to comment on how different I appear now to a few months ago when I couldn't walk without the aid of a stick, and that brought me up short.
On Thurdsday, I cycled 10 miles or so up the main trunk road to Stepaside to take part in a working day for Sustrans, tidying up the borders of a new cycle and foot path, which was reasonably heavy work, and then we cycled back again along the Ridgeway, so about 25 miles cycling in total (on my newly rebuilt road bike, so a much faster pace than usual).
On Friday I cycled to Haverfordwest and back early in the morning to buy cheap cycling clothes from Aldi; another 22 miles. In the afternoon I did more cycling around town, this time on my MTB, with panniers full of shopping/compost etc.
Looking back, I was probably walking with a stick until the end of November 2007. I think I can now view my progress in a different light.

A NEW DAY

2008-04-28T09:50:00.003+01:00

It's the Monday Morning after a really crap weekend, most of which I can't remember. The main incident was on Saturday Night and completely eclipsed everything else which might have been good about the weekend. The Noisy Neighbours came round to abuse and threaten me again, this time charging me with taking photos of their children. They simply will not accept that their children and their friends are liars (even though they encourage them to lie, steal and cheat at every opportunity). The father was nearest the door, but still at some distance, and did most of the talking, threatening me with allsorts, including the police, to which I agreed. His wife was at the gate, surrounded by a gang of kids, mostly teenagers, and when he got nowhere, she started hurling the abuse, whereupon I shut the door on them and called the police myself. Within minutes the whole family was dispersed, presumably collecting alibis.
Two Community Support Officers attended within about 10 minutes, and promised to look into the problem. I phoned again yesterday as I had heard nothing back, and spoke to the older officer, who said "As you've sent a report of this to your local councillor, we're just going to treat this as a neighbour disagreement, which is nothing to do with us".
At this I went ballistic. Within an hour two "proper coppers" came to the house, and I filled them in with what had happened, whereupon they said they would speak to the neighbours.
Since then I've had abuse shouted at me by strangers in the street, but nothing physical has happened as yet, though I get the feeling it will.
As a family we are sick of this. We have no privacy, no peace and quiet, no quality of life to speak of. On Saturday, my wife was in the garden with our children, and had to put up with continued abuse shouted across and things thrown at them. Their behaviour is disgusting.
Our Councillor has taken our side in this and has forwarded emails on to the Housing Officer, though I fully expect he will take as much action as usual, i.e. none at all. I'd like us to be moved away completely, but most of the areas to which we could move are probably a lot worse, so it would be a leap from the frying pan.

A QUIET TUESDAY

2008-04-22T09:23:00.004+01:00

Things have had a touch of the hectic about them of late. (i.e. I've had stuff to do!), and this week is no exception, but today is a day with no appointments in the diary, nowhere to go, no-one to see. Of course there is the usual stuff that needs to be done, but I'm not yet sure that I can be bothered to do any of it.
Instead of my leather office chair, which seems to give me instant backache, I am sitting on an exercise ball, hoping to improve posture and benefit my core muscles while "doing nothing". Well, it's a start.
It's 9.30am, and I have yet to be startled by the yapping of Yorkshire terriers from next-door-but-one. It usually starts around now, and then I have to drown it out with the radio. Last night as we were putting our children to bed, one of their children was in their garden, attacking his little brother's sit-on tractor with a saw and a hammer. At one point it looked like he might saw himself in half. It serves to illustrate how little his mother cares for his welfare - she must have known what he was up to from the amount of noise he was making, but not once did she come out to check that he was OK. While he was doing this, one of her precious Yorkshire terriers escaped from the front of the house. I watched as she went out and tried to lure the yapping bastard back in, and when she failed to do so after 2 minutes, she went back in and simply left it there, which is the same approach she takes with her children. They are also actively encouraged to lie, cheat and steal. Words fail me. I hate being anywhere near these people.
On Sunday I took Jasmine along to a local Jiu-Jitsu class, on the recommendation of a friend. I was worried that she might find it too intimidating, as she's a bit of a shrinking violet at times, but she got stuck in like a good 'un. Actually, I found the violence a bit overwhelming, but I wasn't there for my benefit. She seemed to enjoy it, and declared an interest in going regularly. I can also take Dylan, as they accept children from the age of 5, so next week I shall take them both, and see how they fare. On one hand, I'm a bit uneasy about exposing them to such violence at such a young age, but I'm also uneasy about exposing them to our neighbours on a daily basis. They have been bullied once, and doing this might ensure they can stand up to any bullying they come up against, which I never could.
9:45, and right on cue, out come the dogs.
To balance things, I went and bought 2 descant recorders yesterday, along with the tutorial the schools use, so I can give Jasmine recorder lessons. The deal is that if she does well at it we can get a saxophone. I think I want one more than she does, but so what? I'd like us all to be able to play music together, and recorders seems to be the way to go, to begin with. Although I had not blown one in anger since schooldays, I was straight back in there, no messing! I now need some "proper" music to play, so I can practice up while Jasmine is at school and stay ahead of the game, as I know what a fast and eager learner she is!

ENTHUSIASM

2008-04-14T13:40:00.002+01:00

In my capacity as Sustrans Liaison Ranger, I have just had a meeting with one of the head teachers at the local school regarding the children doing regular litterpicks along a section of the National Cycle Network.
It was an excellent meeting, very positive, and everything came together instantly. Why can't everything be this way? And why can't I get paid for doing this wonderful job?

INJURIES

2008-04-14T10:39:00.002+01:00

At times, I can forget my hernia operation as though it had never happened. Then it kicks me in the nads again. Walking on Saturday was quite problematic - after four miles I was all but seized up with random stabbing pain in my whole groin area. Mildly worrying, but it did pass, so I'll put that down to recent inactivity and general stiffness.
My shoulder, having been firmly dealt with by a proper physiotherapist, is better than it was, in that it is no longer waking me up at 5am in agony, but it's still not right. I can produce pins and needles down my arm simply by tilting my head back, and get rid of them by nodding forwards.
My left wrist aches far more than it used to. (This is the one I broke clean across when I was 17). I suspect the two things are connected.

A F HARROLD IN CARDIGAN

2008-04-07T14:26:00.003+01:00

Last Thursday I made my way over to Cardigan to see A F Harrold at the Word Up! Poetry Night, (first Thursday of every month, at the Castle Cafe, Cardigan) and to spend some time with my friends Sue and Dai. It was the first time I'd been there since standing down as Chairman, and it was nice to have no pressure to do anything. Simone has well and truly taken over and is rapidly making the night a part of her "Empire" - she's booking poets to perform, putting them up at her place (some massive country pile by all accounts) then getting them to give a writer's workshop the following day (I presume she also gets mucho funding for this...) and I'm glad to be out of it.
However, I digress.
A F Harrold is a name I have heard often over the years, and one with a big reputation attached to it, so I took along some high expectations.
He was younger than I'd thought he'd be; the same age as my wife.
He was one of those rare people with whom I could just sit down and start rapping. We talked incessantly until the start of the proceedings. I bought all 3 of his books. At a discount. I now need to send him one of mine.
His very first poem had me in hysterics. I don't think this has ever happened before. He was an awesome performer, one of the best I have ever seen. There were hints of Hegleyism in his delivery at times, but I'm sure they could be slapped out of him given the chance. His material pisses all over Hegley's. (No offence intended John, I think I remember a poem of yours I enjoyed once, or it could have been Simon Armitage.)
The night was pretty much a blur - I hardly ever drink these days, but I had an old-fashioned thirst on, and a few too many pints were drank, judging by the axe-wound to my skull the following morning. I'd also smoked more than enough weed, but I don't think I behaved too badly, considering.
I'm now perusing the books at my leisure. The poems to his father are very moving indeed. I like the mixture of light and dark in his act. Just like mine used to be.

KINESIOLOGY

2008-04-07T12:30:00.004+01:00

After two sessions of Bowens Technique, my shoulder was as bad as when I started, and I was £60 worse off. I phoned the therapist, who said we might try a session of Kinesiology, which I was happy to go along with, even though it cost a further £20.
The session involved myself and two women, my regular therapist, and her colleague.
We sat in a semi-circle, and one of them held onto me, either my arm, my shoulder, or sometimes the top of my head, while I held various phials in my right hand. The one holding onto me then held out their left arm level with their shoulder, and the other applied pressure to the top of their hand. Depending on whether the arm gave resistance or flopped down, a decision was made. This went on for around 30 minutes, during which time I was requested not to let my mind wander and to "stay in the room". I held onto a variety of phials, sometimes two together, while they mumbled and wrote down various indecipherable notes. At the end of it all it was "revealed" that I was low in zinc, which was hampering my recovery, and I was "prescribed" two tablets of zinc a day (which were conveniently sold in the downstairs health-food shop). It has made absolutely no difference, I have forgotten about taking the zinc, and while I wouldn't go so far as to say the whole thing is a con, I don't have much confidence in it. I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anybody.
Fortunately, I had an excellent physiotherapist recommended to me, who seems to have sorted everything out. Phew.

LONG TIME NO SEE

2008-04-07T12:08:00.002+01:00

I didn't realise it had been quite so long since my last post, but it has been impossible to keep a daily blog during the easter holidays. There is a lot to catch up on now the children and wife are all back at school. My shoulder has improved dramatically after a visit to a recommended physiotherapist, Gavin McCoy of Haverfordwest, who got straight to the root of the problem, a few misaligned vertebrae in the middle of my back. I'm still not 100%, but there was a marked improvement the day after seeing him, and he has given me a couple of "exercises" (which involve lying down) which should sort the rest out. I also had a session of Kinesiology with my Bowens therapist and her colleague (more about that in a separate blog), but I don't think that had any effect.
I am still employed, but for how much longer I have no idea. There was mention at the last meeting of all the absence I had from last year, so they're obviously counting the days, at last. I look forward to being set free soon. I have lodged an appeal against the disgusting decision of my complaint of harrassment and bullying, and am once more playing the ridiculous waiting game that follows any such action. Thinking about it makes me mad and makes me paranoid, so I won't discuss that any further just yet.
Last week I went back to Cardigan for a Word Up! Poetry night featuring A F Harrold - again, more about that in a separate blog when I get time.
I have taken up the knitting needles again after a long lay-off and am currently learning how to cable. More about that on my knitting blog.
I now have the information I need to get on with some Celtic Knot Design - more about that on a separate blog too.
Medically, things are pretty much as they were - I'm still vastly overweight - currently hovering around the 14.5 stone mark. I was 15 stone a few weeks ago so there is slight improvement, but obviously the shoulder injury has prevented any serious exercise, though I have managed to up the mileage I've been cycling recently. I'm still unhappy about my energy levels.
My medication regime is quite stripped down, I'm currently taking Omeprazole to regulate my stomach acid, still on the antidepressant Cipralex, though I'm not convinced it's actually doing anything, and I have been taking Tramadol for my shoulder, but there is little need for that at the moment. Abdominal pain is still there, but tolerable most of the time. Hernia pain seems to be on the wane, but I don't think it will completely disappear.
I now need to give my Road Bike a complete service after the winter, and get it race ready again. I need a new bottom bracket, and then I'd like to change the gearing, perhaps by putting a compact chainset on, which seems the easiest option. I shall discuss this at the bikeshop sometime this week.

STATIC

2008-03-17T12:33:00.003Z

Today I am trying out a new Tens machine on my shoulder - while the tickling of the electrical current is distracting for a while, that's all it seems to do. I really am getting worried about my shoulder - I've never experienced such lingering and intense pain as this before.
Shelagh is back from her holiday in the USA, and has been in touch with Ted about Jim's camera collection, so I am now waiting for Ted to let me know when he is able to bring the stuff over here.
While this is a positive thing in itself, it feels like something ending.

THE RESULT

2008-03-14T13:29:00.001Z

I received today the result of the findings of the investigation into my complaint at work. I am not happy. Enough said. For now.

HELLO SENSELESSNESS MY OLD FRIEND

2008-03-14T11:26:00.002Z

Last night was a bad one - I had diarrhea so bad that I was expelling nothing but water, the acid in my stomach was boiling up almost into my mouth, and my shoulder slowly got worse and worse. A li'l cannabis helped me sleep for a few hours, but this morning I was struggling, to say the least. I phoned the doctor's, then while waiting for a call back, I phoned my Bowens Practitioner to cancel today's appointment, and explained that I would call back after seeing my GP.
Imodium and Tramadol were quickly issued - that man needs a holiday. He can't wait to get people out of his office (or is it me?). He also advised keeping my arm in a sling for a few hours each day. I'll give it a try.
As it turns out I needn't have cancelled my appointment with my therapist as I was in and out of the surgery well in time to get the train to Narberth, but she is only contactable on her home phone, so I couldn't rearrange, which is typical.
Tramadol do sort out any pain issues, but at a price. I can't think clearly, and I'm not supposed to be cycling while "under the influence", but the pain is so acute at the moment that I'll forgo those privileges. I've decided that my bikes can have long-overdue services anyway, and clarity of thought isn't really necessary for those jobs.
I don't like the paralysis that imodium imposes on the bowel, it feels completely unnatural, but it is a necessity at the moment.