Super Glue

I cycle in and it's very windy again. A head wind naturally but hopefully it'll blow me home again.

In fact on the way home I have such a decent pace on that I catch and then overtake another cyclist. He is a more senior gentleman than myself but as soon as I've done it I regret it. On second glance he looks like a wizened hard man who's probably around my age but has done so many Hellathons that he's aged prematurely. He's riding a bike that was probably state of the art technology thirty years ago but he's kept it in good nick ever since and he looks well capable of whupping me on it.

The moment that I realise my mistake has come home to haunt me is when I notice that he is attached to my back wheel, seemingly with super glue. I go up a couple of gears to try to lose him and I power up the hill out of Borrowash. No luck. The sun is behind me and I can see his shadow, so I know that the crafty old bugger is letting me pull him all the way up the hill. I ease off at the top and still he doesn't conform to etiquette and come past. I free wheel to the bottom of the next hill, still no movement. Do I turn around and give him a mouthful?

After a much slower assent of the next hill he finally comes past, smiles a cheery 'hello' and starts to chat about triathlons, having seen my Derby Tri t-shirt. Apparently he's a 'novice' triathlete like me e.g. he also only does pool swims. I try and put him down a peg or two by mentioning the Ashbourne Hellathon, which seems to rattle him. Only problem is that I best enter it now, in case I see him again and he asks how it went.

I cycle to the pool. I've not been for a swim for ages, what with grudge races and all that. Tonight it's not lane night and it's a total free for all. The two lanes that are set up are packed, so I try the main pool but there's too many people swimming diagonally or doing handstands in the deep end so eventually I have to join the lanes. There's now only two others in lane two but unfortunately one of them is doing backstroke down the centre of the lane. It was easier negotiating my way around the handstanders. The other occupant of the lane and I have to continually swim around and past this obstacle, whilst avoiding each other at the same time. Although I wouldn't be too distraught if I collided with her.

L had a similar problem the other day with psychos doing butterfly and you never mix with people doing butterfly unless you want a broken nose. Although she obviously had a good butchers because she says men look awesomely sexy when they are doing butterfly. Sounds like I’m going to have to learn how to do it. (a) to look awesomely sexy and (b) to break the nose of anybody doing backstroke down the centre of the lane. If I had a go now the best I could hope for would be that the chap backstroking would die laughing.

I get home and walk the dogs up to L, who's been working late. I'm trying to get MD used to as much traffic as possible, to get him over this fondness for hurling himself under them. Tonight, he's fine. We don't meet any other dogs though, which is his other Achilles heel.

Over a beer, I do the business. Job done. I've entered the bloody thing.