Exam Stress

Thanks to Doggo and I dubiously being promoted to the later, more advanced group on a Monday night, this enables me to bike in today. It’s a bit blustery though and the wind was definitely against me. I also watch out for tacks as I cycle in.

The Etape Caledonia on Sunday was sabotaged by protesters scattering tacks along the route. Hundreds of cyclists suffered punctures and the race had to be halted for about ninety minutes whilst the route was made safe. The locals weren't happy because the roads are closed to other traffic whilst the race is taking place. Events like this though, bring in a fair amount of money to the local economy, last year around £417,000 and also raises around £225,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support.



Despite the setback, it is fast becoming 'the' cycling event in the UK. It’s something I’d like a crack at one day. Wouldn’t want to damage my new bike though. L kindly offers to lend me her shopper bike. Hope she’s got a good supply of spare inner tubes for it.

Tacks apart, cycling’s not dangerous. Well unless you’re in the Tour of Italy, where on Saturday, one of the cyclists fell on a ‘technically challenging’ descent and was found around 60m below his bike in a ravine. He’s fine though... a few fractures to his thigh bones, kneecap and neck, a perforated lung and concussion but he’s expected to make a full recovery, in time. In a way, he was lucky. If he'd fallen on the technically challenging descent of Derby Road in Nottingham he would have been instantly squashed by a bus.

L sends Daughter home from her papers; I think her mind is elsewhere, on maths hopefully. L and Doggo sort the rest of her round out. I hope she doesn’t freeze in the exam. I text her, telling her to ‘Keep calm, check your answers and watch out for those evil minuses’. Something we had problems with last night.

As the day wears on we’re all on tender hooks but we daren’t text her to see how it’s gone. I’ve got that many things crossed, I’ve got cramp. Perhaps it’s all over and they’re all in the pub drowning their sorrows. In the end, I text her. I just hope she's not got her phone turned on in the exam room. I would hate to get her disqualified. Then she rings me and seems elated, if a little annoyed because there were only a couple of questions on what we'd revised, so much so that it takes a couple of hours from my eardrums to recover. All the same, I think we got a result.

I’ve not really mentioned the ‘fantasy’ league this season but I will now, unless Peter Crouch scores tonight I’ll be top of the league for the first time since September.

We get to our new ‘advanced’ class to find it’s all been moved out of doors because the indoor Arena has flooded, where it’s raining, oh the irony.