The Slow Spoke is a place where I put my thoughts to words and hopefully some will read them. Since I'm a major bike geek most entries will be bike related but, not always. I'm also guilty of thinking far too much so you never know what the topic will be. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Tuesday, 26 March 2013


Yeah, I know. Hell of a title, eh?

On Sunday morning I headed out for a ride with a couple of friends. Nothing over the top; just a good ride at average pace and fairly short. Both were basically going for a shakedown run on new rides so I knew it wouldn't be a hard-pressed ride. None of us have managed much of a season so far anyway - truth be told. Each of us with our own legitimate reasons I suppose but....... Since they'd be running brand new rockets I told them I'd be "slumming it on my CrossCheck".

Sunday morning came and from the outset, I wasn't sure. I had a puking son on Thursday night, and on this particular morning (also his birthday) my stomach was trying to tell me something - or was it?

Sometimes I can, admittedly, be very stupid, but, most times my stupid actions are based on stubbornness and unwillingness to conceive defeat: something I most certainly should have done that morning. I'd later regret my denial and unwillingness to read the signs.

From the first turn of the cranks I felt totally off. Straight away I knew something was up. I couldn't find a good rhythm. I couldn't get comfortable. I could't get my heart rate down. I couldn't settle: breathing hard and struggling even at lower speeds. I just kept telling myself that it was due to the lack of "real" riding I'd managed to get in so far this year. I struggled for the duration, grabbing a wheel and hugging it which is very unlike me. I'm not the type to cling to wheels for the span of a ride and ALWAYS make sure I do my share of the work but, today that changed. I stayed behind wheels on the road sections of the ride and only held the front for short bursts. I just couldn't do it. Not sure if my friends noticed - no one said anything - but that's not my style.

The first hundred feet of the ride saw my computer stop working which turned out to be a broken (worn through) computer wire so I couldn't even tell if I was feeling this way due to elevated speeds or what was happening. With no heartrate, speed, cadence I was blind and couldn't rationalize "why". I was still in denial.

Fast forward to the midpoint of the ride and I had to sit on the ground for a break. I didn't talk much choosing to listen instead which, again, is unlike me (HAHAHA). My gut started to tense up and it hurt like hell when it did so. Now I knew I was in trouble. I quickly got up and said "We should probably get going!! Right??" I threw a leg over and started off. Another attempt to deny any issue I was having.

Now on trail, I was able to concentrate on my riding and I did have my mind taken off my stomach for a time. I pressed on at my own pace knowing full well that I just needed to get home.

Once home, I literally walk in to the house with my daughter now puking in the bathroom (moments before she puked on the front door and porch). I'm quickly on my hands and knees cleaning this all up as we have guests coming over for my son's 4th wasn't to be for me.

By 12:30pm I'm chucking cookies and in bed. A house full of guests and I'm missing my son's birthday. That is the hardest part of this whole thing. I missed my son's birthday. I slept a full 24hrs getting up only to throw up. Totally crazy. Stupid me. I should not have ridden. I should have read the signs. I should have stayed home. Maybe the ride is what pushed my body over the top. I'm convinced, like my bike, my head has some fucked up wires.

It's killing me that I missed his birthday. Killing me I tell you.

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