The Ride of the Mad Bastards was the reason I woke at 5am this morning. I say the plural bastards, but really it was just Mad Bastard John F.
You couldn't wish to ride with a nicer cyclist.
John F explained that the early rural roll out was so as to avoid the traffic. He later let it slip that it was so that we could also tag along on two extra rides.
I did well to actually make the rendez vous. Mad Murphie the cat chose my moment of leaving the house to bring home Mr Mouse.
BAD girl, Murphie. Bad girl.
Mr Mouse wasn't quite a gonner yet. I managed to rescue him, and then hide him away at the bottom of the garden. It would keep Murphie busy all morning, and then knacker her out for the afternoon when I had some work to catch up on.
Job's a good 'un, on both fronts.
The Ride of the Mad Bastards was brilliant. Once around the Tendring lanes with John F, and then we hitched a ride with the Velo Club Revolution pre-club roll out.
Cyclists are funny folk. A club run always has to have a pre-club run for the extra keen cyclists. By my calculations this meant the Ride of the Mad Bastards was actually a pre-pre roll out.
It was the first time in over a year that I have cycled in a peloton proper. I was a little edgy at first, but soon found my line and length with the rider in front. 20cm seemed to be the acceptable distance - a little too close for my comfort, but it certainly got me round.
I made the fashion faux pas of riding in yellow. It takes a cyclist with a certain arrogance to pull off the look.
I kept my head down, put on my best race face and somehow wasn't dropped.
Back at base and Murphie was out for the count. I fired up InDesign and completed the fiddly school docs that I have been bodging.
@richardgallon gave me the professional once over and marked me out of 10. I only hope that the Head Teachers of South London are so generous.
A rare late afternoon swim followed. If I've not put the lengths in by 9am most mornings then the opportunity is usually lost.
But I wanted a light stretch after the ride, plus I was a little smelly if truth be told. Never underestimate the power of a home water metre to motivate you to swim.
Disclaimer: I ALWAYS shower before entering the pool - unless I am #drydiving at the beauty of Lake Brockwell of course...
The Big Essex Clouds were making all the right pretty patterns as I cycled home. I had my camera in my swimming bag, and so stopped for fifteen minutes or so for an impromptu photo shoot.
In Nature News: I watered a snail whilst doing some late night gardening. He / she / it seemed to enjoy it, even coming out of the it's shell, so to speak, to soak up the sprinkling.
It was crawling rather close to the milk carton that Anna uses to DROWN slugs and snails in cheapo cider.
I like to think of my watering act as a show of snail solidarity.
I really can’t be arsed with the football. Here’s a video instead of a Dulwich Hamlet robotic vacuum cleaner, via @vornstyle.