Lazy Monday

The last day of a fabulous four days off! CH and I decided to celebrate the first half of it by going for a Mountain Bike ride. We had heard rumours that a local park held some MTB tracks in the back of it. After taking the longest, yet least hilly route there, we were pleasently surprised to find a maze of tracks hidden behind this suburban park.

After a ride through and failing to end up where planned on several occasions - thanks to poor signage, we were finally spat out onto a road (both of which neither of us recognised) and were then left to navigate our way to a coffee shop.

With both of us being avid coffee fans and desperate for a cup of the good stuff, finding a coffee shop was an easy task. Finding one that was open - not so easy.

Coffee Shop 1 - CLOSED

Coffee Shop 2 - CLOSED

Coffee Shop 3 - CLOSED

Coffee Shop 4 - CLOSED

CH was lost, unsure what to do. A strange feeling no doubt, for one who ALWAYS ends a ride with a coffee.

Our quest to find an open coffee shop led us close to home, so we decide to stop in, clean ourselves up, swap bikes (CH's idea) and take the fixies out to hunt down more coffee shops that may be open.

On the road again, and we finally strike some luck - an open coffee shop!

Our hearts and tastebuds rejoice as we park the fixies out the front. CH puffs out his chest with pride as some passer by comments on his handy work with the bikes.

We are finally fed and given caffiene and I instantly become a more pleasent person to be around once that caffiene starts pumping through my body. As I sip, I watch CH inhale his waffles and skull his coffee. This man is not satisfied though - he needs more, and he suggests we continue riding to the next open coffee shop for round two.

Round two, and we fill our bellies a little more. We leave feeling very greatful to those who worked on Easter Monday as we cruise home on the fixies.

Everything is a Competition

With a race being held up on the glorious Sunshine Coast Hinterland today, a friend and I thought we may as well head up and enjoy the glorious sunshine.

After the race it was the usual mandatory stop at a Bakery for a refuel and some caffeine, before heading up to Kondililla Falls.

After a swim in the ice bath that was Kondililla Falls it was time to do the trek back to the cars. I was the first to be organised and began to lead the way. Trouble is, being with a group of cyclists means they cannot handle having someone in front of them. Absolutely everything becomes a competition and the walk back to the cars was no exception.

So, after a wee while on the front, I hear some fast approaching footsteps from behind, accompanied by a commentary.

'She is in a breakaway, but Cycling Buddy is coming up from behind......and he has bridged the gap!

This was just the very beginning of an endless vocabulary of cycling commentary the whole way back, as we fought for our positions, battling slow walkers, sight-seers and a few injuries.

Cycling lingo was flying through the air as our 'peleton' ascended to the car park.

Knowing that cyclists hate to lose - I very kindly let them all overtake (except CH - who claims he wasn't even racing). I don't think I could have handled the car trip home if I hadn't.

Doper

A friend of mine recently found herself in a spot of bother when she broke her ankle whilst embracing the world of Roller Derby.

As part of her recovery, she was required to inject herself in order to avoid her blood clotting. Knowing that we have a sharps bin (purchased upon receiving the news that CH has Diabetes Type 1 - of which his mother is convinced that cycling caused??) she handed the needles over to me to dispose of, as I was hopping in the car to leave her house.

Becoming so engrossed in practicing my singing on the way home, I forget all about the syringes laying around in the back seat of the car.

The next person to take out the car is CH himself - to a bike race of course.

Bike races are great places to show off your new lightweight wheels, your awesome DI2, but it is no place to have syringes laying about.

With CH's posse swanning about the car, it didn't take long before the syringes were noticed.

Cycling Buddy 1: 'Here's the reason you've been riding so well lately - Check this out!!!'

Cycling Buddy 2: 'Someone call Doping Control!'

Cycling Buddy 3: 'Can I get some?'

CH, also unclear as to why there was a pile of used syringes in the back of our car, couldn't explain his way out of that one. Needless to say, I copped twenty questions when he arrived home that afternoon.

The Helmet Measurement

CH has discovered a new form of measurement within our household............

After days of nagging me to give him a haircut, CH came to me in desperation with his helmet on. As he points to his head he says 'Look at this! My hair is so long it pokes through my helmet! That means I really need a haircut. I can even see it in my shadow when I am riding.'

Tim Tamtation Take Two

After multiple coughing fits lastnight I was beginning to worry that CH was coming down with something. Upon closer observation, however, I find that the coughing fits only happen when CH opens the freezer. Trying to figure out the connection I recall placing a packet of Tim Tams in the freezer a few weeks ago. The coughing was simply to mask the noise of the Tim Tam packet while CH smuggled them away one by one.

Hoover

Due to an upcoming big race, CH has had to increase his training remarkably. This means riding before work, after work, to work, from work, during work and the occassional 3:00am rise and shine to go for a ride. He is squeezing every last moment out of every day to ride.

This means that sightings of CH in his natural habitat (our house)are quiet rare these days. While I don't see him in the flesh too often there are some very clear indicators that he is alive and well. Some of these indicators are....

1. There are 'lycra only' loads of washing appearing on the clothes line on an almost daily basis.

2. CH's mail can be found open and littered across the kitchen bench of a morning.

3. New bicycle parts continue to appear throughout the house.

However the most noticeable sign is that every time I open the fridge 90% of the food I bought the previous day has disappeared. I have done about 4 grocery shops in the last six days and each time I think, surely this will last us till the end of the week, only to find it is mostly gone by the following day. Surely one man couldn't consume such copious amounts of food alone? Could he? This question was answered recently as I was treated to a live show of 'The Hoover' in action......................

I was home alone one Thursday evening, when I saw the familiar flashing light roll up our driveway and knew that CH was home. He enters the house, puts the bike away and makes a beeline for the fridge, retrieving armfuls of food. I watch in amazement and within minutes I see a weeks worth of fruit disappear into CH's mouth. Like a vacuum cleaner to a filthy floor, CH vacuumed up 6 bananas, 2 mangoes, 2 apples, 10 lychees, 3 peaches, 2 nectarines and some blueberries. Whilst slurping in that last little blueberry, he turns to me and says 'So, whats for dinner?'

And so I learn that the more kilometres that appear on CH's bike odometer, the more dollars appear on the bottom of our grocery docket. A simple equation really.

The Passport Saga

It always fascinates me just how much of a motivator cycling is for CH. It's like this magic word you dangle in front of him, like a carrot, to get things done. I can ask, encourage, suggest and hint for something to be done and get zero results, yet as soon as cycling is involved things miraculously happen. And they happen with enthusiasm and gusto!

I have been 'encouraging' CH to renew his passport for quiet some time now and it always gets put in the 'too hard' basket for a few reasons
1. CH would have to actually make a trip to the post office to get a form - too hard.
2. CH would then have to fill in said form - way too hard. and
3. CH would then have to be organised enough to arrange an appointment to hand all the appropriate documentation in - definitely too hard.

As you can see the task is almost impossible and this meant updating the passport was out of the question. So I had given up on this passport dream, comforting myself with the knowledge that I had done my bit and CH would be the one suffering the consequences as I stood in the queue at the airport waving goodbye to the passportless him.

However just as I began to resign myself to the fact that operation passport will not happen.........CH was presented with an opportunity to race in an international race. It only took a single suggestion from a cycling BFF for CH to get over-the-top enthusiastic about accomplishing his long forgotten passport task. And the 'too hard' task was completed in the minimal amount of time, without any fuss.

Today I sat and smiled through gritted teeth as he read out the email he had just received stating that 'your passport application was processed and was on it's way.' Then finishes this off with the comment 'Lucky Cycling Buddy reminded me about getting my passport hey?'

Oh so lucky! Guess I will just always have to wonder what his face would have looked like as I jetsetted off solo?