I only wish the ride yesterday had been as sunny as the FATMAP depicted it. The weather dumped rain once I passed Wellington on the way in, then for the ride home it reached biblical proportions. I wear good quality mountaineering gloves for winter riding and the rain even managed to penetrate them.
Good news is that the blood glucose levels are on the way down. Managed to get it down to 8.2mmol/L yesterday and is staying between 8.2 and 8.9 mmol/L. Not bad for someone who was told that he needed to attend his local surgery for immediate insulin administration. The exercise is burning the stuff up and I'm still using a good quality energy drink and bars. Without them I would be bonking at every hill. I must also give credit to my TCM practitioner who's herbs have nourished my liver and kick started my pancreas.
Reading the odd book about endurance cycling, all authors mention getting into a bad place when cycling and having to dig deep to keep going. Maybe I haven't completed enough mileage yet but I don't get depressed on a bike, it is a pure sense of joy for me. There have been times when on the hills or paddling a kayak when I've been frightened or just plain exhausted and felt I could give up there and then forever. Yes I've pulled from races and declared a DNF, but never got to the point where I hate what I'm doing. Pam's accident left us both with a few issues, but I still get on a bike and love it.
However, yesterday I let my dad get in my head. It was his birthday and I began thinking about him as the rain hit and the tarmac became a crud fest. Just one little thought about his birthday present got in, it didn't leave me wanting to get off, but the speed went down and I narrowly missed a PB. Same happened on the way home, once I re-focused and started concentrating the speed came back.
Dad never approved of cycling. Bikes to him were just transport until someone was stupid enough to give him a driving licence. National Service has a lot to answer for. When I was a teenager he didn't understand what I was achieving on a bike. Devey rides at school would sometime clock over 100 miles in a weekend. Dad saw no achievement in this. The first time I managed the Redhill (a large hill in St Georges), his comment was that I enough gears to get up it and he might respect the achievement if I rode a single speed. The answer to anything I did was I should try it with a bag of plaster wedged in the frame - like was forced to as a child labourer.
Dad genuinely believes cyclists do not have rights because they don't pay road tax. He doesn't get it that not one penny of road tax has gone to maintaining roads since before WW2 and if it did, the money collected would still be billions short. His version of the highway code is that cyclists should dismount at junctions, stay left and if they need to turn right should remain left and pull across the front of the traffic - if drivers feel charitable and call them through. Cars should not be impeded, speed limits are advisory and if a car stops and he hits them from behind, then it is the car in front that is at fault for stopping.
So, I don't expect any praise from him next August and doubt he'll want to see the medal. For my London Surrey rides, he did come to the fund raiser, but strictly for the tea and cakes wasn't interested in the event or the carbon fibre bike sat on a turbo.
I know that I need to keep him out of my head when heading down the road in the rain. The support I receive from Pam and our friends is always amazing for these events and I look forward to seeing you all again soon. M&J have always been there, M and I have peddled many miles together and hope to cover many more once J is well again. I know that once I start the ride who will be watching the dot cross the screen and it won't be my dad.
