No cycling this weekend...

... and I suppose it was all my fault; it certainly wasn't Andy's. On Friday night I went out to meet some friends and while I didn't touch any alcohol - for those who don't know, I haven't touched the stuff for around 21 months - I did indulge in some home-made iced tea. It was wonderful, so much so that I had a couple of glasses and enjoyed every last drop. Later, prior to jumping into the car and driving off into the stormy weather that was Friday night, I also enjoyed a cup of normal tea. Again, very nice, but what I had failed to consider was my caffeine intake. For around the same time I've been off the booze, I've also been off the caffeine. I now drink decaff tea, but not on Friday night. Anyway, I reached home around 2330hrs but wasn't feeling in the slightest bit tired or weary. I decided not to go to bed, but to watch a movie, Man Up, with Simon Pegg. No, it's not my type of film at all, but I wanted to see what the director made of an essentially very simple scenario (man goes on blind date with the wrong girl but ends up falling in love). Look, it was fine, let's leave it at that. But I was still buzzing and decided to get on the computer, check things out. By the time I marched upstairs to bed, still wired, it was approaching 0200hrs. I thought it best to abort and did so there and then.

Andy got to Westerham, but I stayed at home...

For some time now, ever since returning from Dusseldorf, I've had a sore throat and a dry cough. The sore throat was initially very unpleasant and the cough was also not very nice, but they've both persisted. In the middle of the night, just after midnight, I awoke with a coughing fit. In the end I had to get out of bed and head downstairs to make some tea (this time decaff). I turned on the computer, checked out the BBC website (Iran had seized a British ship in the Middle East) and killed time until I'd finished my tea. I thought about aborting, but decided not to. Best, perhaps, to see how I felt in the morning. My alarm went off at 0600hrs and I wasn't feeling good at all. I decided to abort and climb back into bed, eventually falling asleep and then waking around 0900hrs. I needed the sleep, put it that way, but, as usual, the weather was fantastic and I missed out on a ride. Andy posted a photo on Twitter: he'd gone to Westerham, where I was planning on going had I gone out. Anyway, you can't cry over spilt milk, as my mum says. Well, you can, it's just pointless. So I painted the side gate and sat in the garden catching a few rays and didn't really do much all day. I'm under the weather, feeling weary and it's not good.

I slobbed around all day after finishing the gate. I sat in the garden reading the Rough Guide to Cult Fiction, a great read. I've done the crossword (nothing too challenging, just the Waitrose Weekend magazine) and the only clue I didn't get was the name for a baby salmon. Any clues?

Here's to next week's ride.

Cough, sore throat, cold...

Andy's Kona Blast rests against a tree somewhere in
NoVisibleLycra Land.

All week I've suffered from a bout of flu. Well, alright, not flu, but let's just say that since last weekend, when I noticed I had a sore throat, it's developed first into a dry cough and then the full monty: runny nose, sneezing, you name it. In short, I had a cold and for most of the week it was manageable and by that I mean I didn't feel ill or weary or anything so I continued with work. Wednesday was the bad day. I felt terrible and looked forward (as I always do) to a Lemsip. I've written about Lemsip before because it's one of those cough and cold remedies I wouldn't mind taking when I don't have a cold. There's something retro, something calming, about Lemsip.

So the weekend hits. I'd taken Friday off (and I'm off Monday too) and I really thought I'd be up for a ride. Alright, not on Saturday, but on Sunday I thought I'd be raring to go. When I woke up, however, I had a headache and decided to abort. I think Phil was grateful for the abort as he'd had a tough week. Andy went out for a ride and took the photograph accompanying this post.

I'll be back in the saddle next week without fail, weather permitting. Actually, just for the record, I can't remember the last time I suffered the symptoms of a cold; it was probably a couple of years ago, if not longer. I'll find out and report back... okay, here I am reporting back: it was January 2011.

Actually, one of the nicest things about having a cold is when it reaches that stage when you know it's going away and it leaves you with a retro feeling. Not so much deja vu, but you feel you're living in the past, the cosy past. It's hard to explain but if you know what I mean you know what I mean, I'll say no more.