The Beautiful Harem

I drive to work with my bike in car. I have the afternoon off because we have Son’s parents evening tonight and in order to fit in MD’s training as well, it seemed easier to do parents evening in the late afternoon. Hence the afternoon off. It also gives me chance to finally sort out my carbon monster.

Because I’m not doing any training at all today, L steps into the breach. She seems well pleased that she’s managed an hour's cycling, which was Hathersage training I assume, as well as cycling the mile or so to work and after all that being still alive. She doesn’t actually mention whether she enjoyed it or not.

I arrive at the bike shop, taking my old bike with me so that they can take measurements from that and see my riding position on it. Then they measure me and set up me with my own pedals on a rather alluring Kuota Karma. She’s quite a sexy beast, even with me in the saddle and I’m sure she winked at me. Whilst I'm sat there all glassy eyed the chap whips my credit card out of my hand before I can change my mind. It won’t be quite as expensive as it could have been because a lot of it will be going on Cyclescheme.

It’s going to be smaller bike than my current Allez, they reckon that bike is too large for me and is set up wrong anyway. Who do I believe? The shop who sold me my old bike or the shop who are selling me my new bike? Although to be fair the old girl is in 'cycle to work' mode whilst my new acquisition is in full on race mode.

I shall take the word of this chap, as he’s the one with the beautiful harem of Karmas and he’s got my credit card.

I head off to parents evening. This goes far too well, so well in fact that it’s practically surreal. Our Son is apparently now offering answers in class without the teacher having to get the thumb screws out of their box. What's going on? How things change.