My left foot (revisited)

Things just happen, that's the way of the world, and often there's no way of telling if there might have been a reason, cause and effect and all that jazz. Sometimes, like back in October 2017, I awoke with my head spinning as soon as I jumped out of bed. That threw me, I can tell you. I gave up drinking and now, eight years later, I'm still on the wagon and have no intention of going back, even if it was simply an inner ear infection. In many ways, good things come out of bad.

My left foot is not a newcomer to this blog. If you go to the search bar at the top left of the page and key in 'my left foot' you'll get a few posts about it. I can't think of what triggered it. Last Thursday, after a swim, I went to a gym induction and was shown various pieces of gym equipment including a piece of machinery that looked as if it could dislocate my shoulder, now there's something I don't want, a dislocated shoulder. My brother suffered from one after using my Bullworker back in the seventies and, if I recall, he was dogged with problems for years and, I think, he had an operation to fix it. Once, I remember, he disclocated his shoulder whilst swimming in the sea and was a long way off the coast. Fortunately, all was fine. But listen, I don't want these problems. If I suffer any kind of injury linked to doing a specific sport, then I'm stopping immediately. I don't want to be put under for anything and would rather switch my sport to something a little safer.

Now I know there's no such thing as safe and that problems can arise from anything, like cycling, but that's not what I mean. I don't want to indulge in any sport that inherently has a specific injury attached to it. With cycling, yes, you can fall off, yes, you can be hit by a car and yes you can get injured, but there's nothing inherently problematic with cycling, your joints are supported, like they are with swimming (by the water) and by rowing and those are the sports I'd rather engage with; yes, I might be hit by a car, I might fall off, but such incidents are not directly the fault of the activity. Cycling, in other words, if you keep your wits about you, is pretty safe even if you cannot legislate against the activities of other road users or, indeed, your own negligence (like when I came off through nobody's fault but my own, ie I was riding too fast into a left turn. Not the bike's fault, not cycling's fault but my fault. I don't want to be engaged in a sport where the slightest wrong turn or twist will mean surgery. Count me out. I'm not a professional sportsman, I don't earn money from my exercise because that's all it is, exercise. I get paid for doing something unconnected with keeping fit, like most people.

So how the hell did I find myself unable to walk for most of the week? Your guess is as good as mine. Was it swimming? I doubt it. No, I put it down to foolishly 'trying out' the leg press and, as I say, fortunately, I haven't damaged my shoulders; again, I'm not a professional athlete, I don't earn my money from keeping fit, it's purely me doing my best to maintain a reasonable level of fitness, but the parameters seemed to have changed a little bit, forcing me and countless others to fret about not getting enough exercise.

While I have always rode a bike throughout my life, as a kid and an adult, my sport of choice used to be swimming and back in the day I was always told that 20 minutes of exercise, three times a week, was all I needed to keep fit. I swam between two and three times a week, normally with two half-milers and then a mile on a Saturday morning (God, I felt good after the Saturday swim), but that was it. Outside of my two to three swims I was happy and I didn't think of exercise in a fretful way. But over the years, in the same way that marketing people convinced us all that we ought to be drinking litre upon litre of water daily and people started buying those plastic or steel water bottles - I knew people who bought huge canisters and probably drank well over what they should have been drinking - the same has happened with exercise. In fact, I can almost remember the day that somebody upped the ante on exercise, claiming that it's a daily thing, at least 20 minutes, not just three times a week (which was more than enough) but seven days a week, no let-up and so 'going to the gym' became something that people started doing and of course people, businessmen, got rich out of people's obsession with being ripped or whatever it might be, but the gyms were full, people were making money and now if we take a day off we fret and worry about it and vow to double up the following week.

It's the same with a lot of things and we can draw many parallels. So let's see if we can break a few myths. First, I'm going to stick my neck out and say exercise three times a week is absolutely fine. At present I manage one swim and two rides per week. I'm thinking of adding a second swim or a third ride, but that's all. I don't need (and don't want) to be in the gym every morning, on a treadmill watching breakfast television, don't want it, don't need it. I'm happy with my two rides and yes, if I don't do them (like this week) then I get a little irritable as I don't like breaking the routine and missing out. I do believe in exercise and I enjoy it. I'd hate to be one of those people who go everywhere by car, even down to the corner shop to get a newspaper.

But let's get back, briefly, to those parallels. Phones. I used to have a Nokia 3310. I did it's job perfectly and the battery lasted forever. It was a phone, people called me, I answered, we talked, we hung up. I don't need a smartphone. I never use half of the apps and, if I'm honest, I hardly use the phone element of it. There was a time when people were always calling me, now not so much. I've often thought about buying another 3310 and ditching the iphone but I probably won't because I like to record my rides on Strava, I can do so much with it to be fair. That said, data is another one. Who needs it? Do I need to record my distances? Who for? Who's counting? Nobody. In the old days I used to go cycling and that was it. Keeping data on the rides is pointless and, of course, it leads to fretting, unless I can get paid for the number of rides I'm doing, in which case I'd better monitor them. There was a time recently when, if my phone was low on power I'd delay the ride so I could record my distance even though I knew my distance, my destination and roughly how long it took me without switching on the app. Now, if my phone is low on gas and I'm not meeting anybody who might call me en route, I don't bother charging it, I just go and come back on time and get on with my day. The key is to reduce the amount of fretting that takes place constantly. I've got enough of that with work.

There's no real knowing what I did to my foot. I went online and started reading up on what it could have been; tendonitis? Well, that's what I went to the doctor with and there's nothing a doctor likes more than having the words put in his or her mouth. "Yes, it looks like it," he said, and that's it I was labelled as somebody with tendonitis. Except that I wasn't happy with that. The last time I had something similar (a swollen and discoloured foot and a lot of pain and unable to walk) I found out later that I had cellulitis and was given a load of antibiotics to take for around a fortnight. So I booked another appointment with a different doctor. I told him about the many different times that my left foot had caused problems and he wanted to know why. So he sent me to my local GP hub for blood tests and an X-ray. On the former, no problems. In fact he later said it wasn't an infection but an inflammation. Fine, that was good to know. I'm awaiting the X-ray results. It has got better. I haven't taken any Nurofen since Thursday (today's Sunday) and I'm kind of walking again, albeit with a hobble in my step. I'll probably take the bike round the block (six miles) just to get some exercise, which I've missed this week, but it's good to take it easy once in a while and I've been sitting here all morning writing this, drinking tea and listening to Stomu Yamash'ta (currently In Zen Music Vol.1 and a track called Drizzly Step – kind of appropriate don't you think?). Yamash'ta is where it's at. I would recommend that you listen to him urgently. I plan to listen to him a lot more. I heard him first on Night Tracks on BBC Radio 3 and it's the most chilled you'll ever get.

I need to get back to writing and riding and swimming. This enforced break through injury is a little annoying especially when I look out the window and realise that spring is here. I've just noticed that the clocks have gone forward and that means that summer is once again upon us. Hopefully it will be bring plenty of bike rides and happy times. 

Swimming, cycling, improved weather...

 I went down with a bit of a cold and as a result I had to forfeit the ride on Sunday to meet Andy; that was the week before last, but last week Andy couldn't make it so I had to motivate myself. Fortunately, the poor weather seems to have left the building so I rode to Westerham last Sunday despite the fact that my original plan had been to visit the Velobarn, which seems to open when it pleases. I rode along Pilgrim's Lane and found the place to be closed, leaving me no option than to ride into Westerham, which I did, stopping at Costa, padlocking the bike outside and enjoying a very pleasant cup of English Breakfast tea in the sunshine.

The ride back, was as expected and when I passed the Velobarn it was still closed. Their loss, I was thinking, their loss. It wasn't long before I reached Botley Hill and then before too long I was home. In a complete break with tradition I quickly went out again to do the Norfolk Nobbler, a six-miler round the local streets, which can be quite a work-out. In total I rode 28 miles last Sunday and felt better for it. 

What arsewipes did this?

Last Thursday, the one just gone (6 March) I went for a swim at my local pool. Half a mile is a good distance, takes around 30 minutes, 32 lengths, and on a Thursday the pool is pretty much empty. A pleasant hot shower followed and because I'd parked my car in the supermarket across the road, there was no parking charges, meaning I could relax a little and enjoy my shower, which I did. 

I've been having a few problems with the pool membership. I was originally on a plan that was restricted to just one pool and this was causing issues because if I wanted to go more than once a week (I have to go twice a week to make it pay) it was difficult in terms of available times to go. So, I upgraded my membership, which meant I could use a pool slightly further away, but when I got there last Friday evening I wasn't too happy with the pool. All the changing rooms were damp, the locker system was different and basically, all the faffing around made me leave the place in a mild huff without a swim, although if I dig dip I'd probably discover that I wasn't really up for a swim and needed instead to simply relax. I'll now have to degrade my membership to what it was before and try and work out a different solution. I'm planning on one swim per week twice a month and two swims per week on the remaining two weeks. Again, not a problem.

During the week I had the bike serviced. I was initially having problems with the inner tube valve, which I simply couldn't undo in order to inflate the inner tube. I took it to the bike shop and he fixed it. I now have a new tyre and inner tube on the back. While I was there I asked him to fix the bottom bracket, which had well and truly gone, and he said I might as well get a service, so I booked the bike in. The brakes are now fixed, there's a new chain and block and the bottom bracket is fixed too but, as always, the price was almost that of a new bike, albeit a very low spec machine. For an extra forty quid I could have walked out of there with a new one. But hey ho. I didn't buy a new bike, I had my Rockhopper fixed and it's running smoothly as a result and that's all that matters.

I had a haircut during the week and asked for a number three. "That's a skinhead," said the barber. "I know," I said, and he got on with it. I feel much better after a short haircut and I look better too. Nothing worse than straggly hair, it looks so untidy, especially when it's greying. That set me back around £15, which was fine. Afterwards I went to Costa Coffee for an English Breakfast tea and a Bakewell tart. But I wasn't relaxed and after around 10 minutes I left and drove home.

Today, Saturday 8th March, I did a Washpond Weeble, just over 12 miles. The weather is great today, not cold, but I left the house late and decided to shorten the ride; I was going to head for Oxted or Westerham or, if it was open, the Velobarn but decided instead on a non-stop ride which took just over an hour. Riding through Washpond Lane I noticed that some arse wipes had set fire to a car and left it in a pile by the side of the road. I mean, what kind of arseholes do that sort of thing? It was, however, a pleasant ride and now I'm back home writing the blog, which I haven't been doing as frequently as I should. Oddly, when I checked the weekly stats for this past week, the number was well over 10,000 visitors, it's now around 6,000. I love it when reader numbers go up or whatever it is the figures relate to.

Outside the sun is shining and the skies are fairly blue, it's 8th March and the bees are out, the snowdrops and the crocuses are on the lawns and there are signs of daffodils too. In short, the summer is on the way and I love it. It means more cycling and that's what I like.

Tomorrow (Sunday 9th March) I'm hoping to see Andy at Sheree's Tearooms, that's around 17 miles, so 29 miles in total, I might even ride into Westerham afterwards if the weather holds and knock the mileage over the 30-mile marker. Who knows? I might not!

Jammed tyre valve aborts the ride...

There's nothing much to say about today's ride because it simply didn't happen. We were due to meet at Tatsfield village, as we do on a Sunday, and I was up and ready to rock at 0600hrs. Breakfast over, I dressed for the ride and then headed into the garage to jump on the bike. The outside temperature was just three degrees so I was wrapped up warm and looking forward to the ride as this week events conspired against me and I had to cancel my swim. Not a problem as I'm currently planning to upgrade (or even cancel) my membership because it simply doesn't work for me. I'm a little annoyed at the fact that it's no longer possible to just 'go for a swim' like I used to pre-pandemic. It was simply a case of walking up to the reception desk, asking for a swim, paying the money and then heading for the changing room, but not any more. Today you need to 'download the app' and book your session that way, which, to be fair is fine, but currently I'm limited to two days per week (Thursdays and Fridays, preferably around 1700hrs). This, however, is only possible on one day per week (Thursday) and for some reason I can't go on Fridays. So I want to change my membership so that I can use other pools in the area, one on Thursday, the other on Friday. But the people in charge of the leisure facilities are dragging their feet and I'm now considering cancelling my membership and starting again somewhere else, but that will mean a six-mile drive or ride to another leisure centre in another town. At the moment, however, I'm simply wasting my money so if I don't get any joy I'll have to cancel my membership and look elsewhere, it is what it is... click here for more.

So my ride today has been cancelled. I'm going to take the bike to a nearby shop and use the opportunity to have a new tyre and inner tube on the bike, the current tyres (front and back) are both looking a little worn so the whole situation is a positive one as I can also cycle from the shop to mum's and back, which is roughly 15 miles and that will do me a lot of good.

Christmas comes and goes...

Christmas has come and gone and it's been good. I wish it had lasted a little longer. I've enjoyed chilling out, reading books, going for a swim in a virtually empty pool, riding the bike, once through a blizzard and once in thick fog. I lost track of what day it was, and that was good, that's how it should be. I started writing this on New Year's Eve as the whole thing was coming to a close, one more day and then it was back to work and everybody had to knuckle down and get on with the new year, which, for most people, will be exactly the same as the old one. "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss."

During the holidays I spent time in darkened streets, visiting cosy places like the Sevenoaks Bookshop, where I bought Over the Rainbow by Alex James, bassist of Blur and, of course, a cheese aficionado and farmer. I sat and watched Outdoor Boy on YouTube and other non-terrestrial stuff. These days there's nothing on 'normal' television that appeals. Who wants to watch Gavin & Stacey?

And yeah, it did all end and I did find myself back at work and it has been more of the same. An element of cosy remained in the shape of the fireplace, which I'm looking at now. The weather has been cold and the fire has made all the difference. We continued watching Outdoor Boy as it's one of those shows that makes us look forward to bedtime. I've been wearing pyjamas, that's how cold it's been, but wearing something warm and getting cosy has its drawbacks: I over-sleep and don't particularly want to get out of bed and go to work! I always struggle the week I return to the office after the Christmas break, but eventually everything clicks into place and normality reigns once again.

The swimming has been good and I've enjoyed it. I'm still hitting a length a minute, which is good, although the pool is a 25-metre affair and in the past, the pools were longer, ie instead of 32 lengths to the half mile, they were 24 lengths or, in Cheam, Surrey, 27 lengths, so I'm not sure exactly what it all means, but let's say I'm doing the half mile in around 30 minutes and I'm sure I'll improve as the journey continues. You have to be organised when you go swimming, you need to remember stuff, like shower gel and having a one pound coin for the lockers although, for £1.50, I purchased as false one pound coin that I have permanently on my key ring. Then there's the car park. Perhaps I should walk to the pool, now that would be something, and it might take around 35-40 minutes, but at least I wouldn't have the worry of paying for the car park. It used to be straightforward, you paid 50p to park, a one-off fee, and then the leisure centre would refund it, but now you have to call a number and register your number plate and key in the number of hours you'll need. I always do one hour and it seems to be fine. After the swim I have a refreshing shower and then, after drying and dressing, I head out into the cold air to the car park and drive home. 

My plan is to combine swimming and cycling: two rides per week, two swims per week. That's four days out of seven getting exercise. I've yet to factor in the gym, but if I can do a couple of days at the gym I will, let's see how that progresses. The whole deal is £34 per month, which means I need to use the place at least twice a week to make it all pay. I'm still in the process of getting that bit right and the best way to play it (at present) is to swim Thursday and Friday and then cycle on Saturday and Sunday morning. The gym will come later.

This morning I fixed up the lights on my bike. I'm currently charging my rear light. The front light has already been charged and is now on the bike. I had to take off two handlebar attachments that had previously held front lights that have since been lost. One fell off during the ride and I couldn't find it. I'm amazed, thinking back, that I didn't hear it falling off, but I didn't; and I can't remember the fate of the other light, but it was similar. I think it fell off the bike and smashed into smithereens somewhere near Redhill in Surrey, but that's a foggy memory.

There has been bad news this year. I was round at mum's house trying to get her central heating working and suddenly I received a text from an old friend who informed me her husband, one of my best mates died. He'd been suffering from cancer for the past two years. We had drifted apart and hadn't seen each other for at least 30 years, but it was still a huge shock. There are certain people I regard as immortal and he was one of them. He inspired me to read more than I would have done had I not met him, he had a great sense of humour and we got on really well, but suddenly that weekly phone call went to every fortnight, then we might have spoken once a month, soon it was longer and longer and then it seemed odd even to think about calling him. I did, for a few years, call him once a year as we shared a birthday and on one or two occasions we spoke on the phone, but nothing came of it. Perhaps we'd both left it too long and there didn't seem any point, but that's life. Just to avoid any confusion, it's not my cycling pal Andy but somebody I first met back in the mid-seventies at college. After that text from his wife I spent a lot of time thinking about Andy, and I'm finding the whole thing unbelievable. I think I'll always find it unbelievable on some level, but it's happened, it's true and there's little more to say. I have referenced Andy on this blog once or twice. I remember him saying that had they cut out all the sound effects from Quadrophenia by The Who,it would have been a very tight single album. Perhaps, but I guess that  album is a story and the story needs embellishment. We all have opinions on stuff like that and who's to say that there's only one answer?

I'm hoping for a ride with Andy Smith tomorrow (Sunday). I know there might be fog and that's why I've put the lights on the bike as it's bloody dangerous without them. We'll be going to Sheree's Tearooms in Tatsfield, our first joint ride of 2025, and I'm looking forward to it. I'll have to set my alarm as I've been getting up late. Today I didn't get out of bed until 0800hrs so the alarm is important. I've just set it on my iphone so all is fine.

While I was hoping for a ride with Andy and it did happen, it was the first ride for me since Boxing Day and it was only 2 degrees Centigrade, meaning it was a little on the cold side. Being my first ride for such a long time and bearing in mind that I had new lights, the rear one needing securing to the saddle post, and adding in the fact that I left the house without my crash helmet and had to go back for it as well as having to look around for stuff to keep me warm, I didn't get moving until 0810hrs, which made me later than expected, late enough for Andy to have finished his coffee when I arrived. Yes, I should have left earlier as it seems to be taking me around an hour to get to Tatsfield. I was feeling a little out of condition and I struggled a little up Church Way and whenever there was a hill, like the one on the 269. As always, of course, having kitted myself out with lights, it worked out that I didn't need them, there was no fog, which was a shame as I was hoping I'd put them to good use. I'm sure the opportunity will arise, possibly even next weekend.

We chatted about writing, which was good. Andy's writing his autobiography, which is great. It's something that I should consider too. I bought Andy another coffee and we chatted on, leaving at around 1030hrs, possibly a little later. The ride back was just as cold as the ride out, and I kept the bike on the top cog at the front, which I hadn't noticed at first on the outward ride. I must have reached home at gone 1100hrs and then sat around drinking tea before heading off to Tunbridge Wells in the car, one of my favourite weekend destinations.