Not riding as much, but why fret about it?

I missed a week. Didn't write a thing. Maybe because I didn't really do a great deal. Well, I didn't ride the bike that much. Last week I didn't really do a great deal either. Alright, I got out on Sunday last week to meet Andy at the Tatsfield village bus stop, but since then only one ride, a 6.13-mile jaunt around my local streets. Quite a work-out, but normally I ride two laps, this time just the one. It was still worth doing, any form of exercise is worth the effort, even if it's only for half an hour. When I say I haven't done much, I mean cycling, nothing else. I don't want anybody thinking I haven't been working. In fact, I'd say work has kind of taken over a bit, or it did last week.

Velo Barn today

Today the ride was blessed with heavy fog. I mean, there's always fog at this time of the year around the Botley Hill area, but today was something else, it was everywhere. Once I found myself on the 269 there was fog and it went all the way down Clarks Lane and was even hanging around as I made the turn left into Pilgrim's Lane on the final stretch of gravel before reaching the Velo Barn. I was going to sail right past it, ride into Westerham and then back up the hill, but in the end I decided it was worth stopping. Then I said to myself that I wouldn't order cake, just a large cappuccino with chocolate on top, but I weakened. I sat outside, wearing shorts for heaven's sake, but as I say it wasn't cold and there's nothing better than chilling in a place like the Velo Barn, among other cyclists, drinking a decent cup of coffee and munching on a piece of cake before heading back up the hill towards the fog and home.

Velo Barn last Saturday...

In recent times I've taken to riding along The Ridge and into Woldingham rather than chance my arm on the 269, which is an inherently dangerous piece of road, and even more so in the fog. But even along The Ridge there was mist, albeit not as thick. I rode down Slines Oak Road and then up the steep bit towards the lower end of the 269 and there was no fog. I cycled into Warlingham and headed down the Limpsfield Road towards Sanderstead and home and now I'm chilling. I was listening to music, but now I'm writing this blogpost and I'm amazed I skipped a week as normally I'm pretty good at regular weekly posts. I hope my millions of readers haven't taken offence at my laziness. I'm sure they haven't. I mean I've not received any complaints and none of the TV channels seem to be mentioning my absence from cyber space. Should that be two words or one?

So my weekly mileage for the current week is what? I rode around 18 miles last Sunday, then six during the week, that's what, 24 miles, and now I've added another 20 miles, so that's a grand total of 44 miles, the equivalent - in 'old days' terms - of two runs to Westerham at the weekend. Not bad really, but I should have rode my local run twice and had I done so I'd have been on 50 miles dead. I'm wishing I'd got out there earlier if the truth be know. I should have left around 0700hrs and headed for Dunton Green, that would have meant around 55 miles, which would have been even more respectable. But it's funny how the weather dictates everything and how, as the nights close in and we steam towards Christmas, that desire to go all out and ride 20 milers three or four times a week disappears. I think the key thing here is not to fret, not to get uptight about mileage and just get out there, even if it's on a short ride round the block.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to meet Andy and possibly Phil and/or Geoff in Tatsfield. Tomorrow starts my cycling week and next week I'm hoping to get two local rides in. Let's see. The key is not to get uptight about anything, as I'm prone to do.

This week my sanity has been preserved by watching I'm a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here. I know, it's rubbish television, but for some reason I look forward to it and I think it's because I need that escapism at the moment. Rubbish TV on one hand, Chuck Palahniuk on the other, both good in their own ways, but if I had to make a choice, it would be Chuck as there's a big difference between escapism and inspiration.

Postscript - riding off without my rucksack

How ridiculous and how typical of me, mind wandering all over the place, fretting about this and fretting about that and what did I go and do? I'll tell you. I was sitting in the Velo Barn on Saturday morning, enjoying a slice of coffee and walnut cake and a large espresso, and then I got up to leave. In fact, I left without my rucksack, which I'd placed on the floor beside me, resting against the wall of the Velo Barn. I got up and rode off, leaving the rucksack behind. I rode all the way home without even noticing I didn't have it and when I reached home it still hadn't twigged. There are reasons for this, of course. Because I wasn't carrying the flask and the mug and the milk, there was no cause to even think about the rucksack, and because I hadn't had a puncture (and, therefore, did not need my puncture repair kit) the rucksack was of little importance). I reached home, came into the house and got on with my day. It was only the following morning (Sunday) as I searched for the rucksack in order to place inside it my flask, mug and milk container that I realised it was missing. It wasn't in the garage and then, of course, I remembered, it was still at the Velo Barn. Everything has a knock-on effect. No rucksack meant no tea for Andy and I at the Tatsfield Village bus stop. Fortunately, Andy offered to buy me a coffee from the shop so all was not lost and then, instead of riding all the way to Woldingham with Andy on the return trip I rode in the other direction to the Velo Barn to pick it up. I stopped for another cappuccino, but no cake, and then I rode home. There was thick fog again so I followed The Ridge into Woldingham as I did on Saturday, still foggy, but not as bad as on the 269. Oddly, while we were sitting at the bus stop, Andy said a quicker way to reach the Velo Barn would be to take the off-road track past the golf course. "No, the problem with that is I'd get a puncture," I said, happy with riding along Pilgrim's Lane instead, but as I approached the off-road bit, I decided to take it and, as I suspected, the bit at the end was just as rough and muddy as I remembered it. Anyway, later, as I approached home territory I noticed a wobble and sure enough the bike had a rear wheel puncture. Very annoying. I trundled down Church Way and limped my way into Ellenbridge Road and home. As I write this the puncture ain't fixed, but I'll have a bit of time tomorrow so I'll get it done. At least it didn't happen while on the road and at least it didn't happen when I didn't have my rucksack containing the puncture repair kit. You live and learn. Or perhaps you don't.