Friday, 20 April 2018

George Clooney's blood vein with a baby swordfish

Sometimes you have to have something that's just for you. Wise words, and obviously not my own.

Most thoughts that I have, indeed most thoughts we all have, come from somewhere else, someone else. That doesn't make them any less true, convincing or relevant. Whatever your name is, there will be someone else called that. Google it, you'll see. I've not got that common a name, but there are about 10 of me in the world that I know about. Even if you had a thousand namesakes you are still you.

It's like that with thoughts. You just need to own them and be happy with them. Otherwise you'll turn into an anxious wreck. That's your truth. But don't try and tell me mine.

It's easy to get dragged into other people's versions of what you should or shouldn't be doing. There are a few eternal thought circles which I let turn in my head. Here's one. Should your football team play a system that suits the players you have, or should you pick players that fit into the system you want to play?

Here's another. Should you try and please people or not give a fuck? Which is right and which will make you happy? Please don't write in.

Then there's the endless "too fast for this lot, but too slow for that lot" conundrum. How to do groups when you don't really do groups. That's what makes being a football fan so good. You can stand in a stadium with 60,000 like-minded people, all rooting for the same team. But hate most of them.

So I've been thinking about the west coast. Not the one that everyone knows. And cycling of course, and how I want to approach it. The truth is, I've got sucked into other people's version of what is fun. And it isn't anymore. It's hard to explain without offending people.

I am planning on riding up a few hills in the late Summer. It's going to be hard, and I need to lose a bit of timber in the interim. So I'm doing my best to cut out the crappy food, do my HIIT sessions at the gym, and ride the heavy bikes now to build a bit of leg strength.

I'll also need to maintain my endurance, and ride up even more hills. But I also want it to be fun, social, coffee, chatting, etc. and that, for me means I can't do fast. Well, not the balls-out, testosterone-fuelled, macho stuff the group I ride with is morphing into. Sorry peeps, life too short for that for me.



You go your way, and I'll go mine. All that. I don't need to compete with you, jeez, I've stopped even competing with me. This is not about not being able to cut the mustard on a panel game. Or an elitist prank. Each to their own I say. But sometimes, you just have to find something that's just for you.

So should I do more riding on my own?


Probably not. Just ride some bumpy Audax, some hilly commutes and some social rides with like-minded people. It would be good to have you along if you fancy that kind of thing. Sometimes it will be the people, sometimes the system.

Like I say, sometimes you need something that's just for you.




Monday, 2 April 2018

Love has got to fight for its existence

Sometimes life is hard. But most of the time, for most of us, we all drift along on some kind of autopilot, and miss all the good things that are busy smacking us in the face. It's a theme I return to again, and again on these pages. Today is no exception, because as Richard Bach once said, and Bono copied, you tend to preach the things you most need to learn.

Easter is supposed to be about new life, new flowers and sunshine. Somehow that message hasn't quite made it into most of the weather department, because conditions here in the UK are still dreadful. Cold, wet, dark and potentially gloomy.


But this Easter has been one of the best I have ever had. On Friday, my wife and I enjoyed the delightful company of my sister, who is also a Sister in the NHS. An inspirational woman to so many people, whether she knows it or not.

On Saturday, I enjoyed a day out in London with my brother, a man so kind he was prepared to smile and be cheerful as my team spanked his team, and he sat and watched from amongst my tribe.





Then yesterday, the rain stopped for a few hours, Steve came out to play, and Alan gave generously of his company, coffee and cake to accompany me around an intriguing route in Somerset. We both enjoyed it so much more for the dry conditions, and had a little chuckle at the Rule fivers that had been out on previous days. No doubt they were watching the skies enviously from their family engagements, wishing they could have our weather.



We climbed Westbury quarry, descended Old Bristol Hill, took back ways to Bruton and enjoyed everything across the levels, including the coffee in Glastonbury. The pictures don't do it justice.




Meanwhile, far, far away, junior is enjoying himself, learning to be independent, and today, Mrs Mendip Rouleur and I are off for an exclusive day out of our own. It may be raining again, but I don't care as I'll be in a car and indoors, spending time with the one I love.

Maybe we all need to stop moaning.

Life my friends, is too short to waste. Am I boring you? Well you better get used to it, because I'm not going to stop.