Snowed in

Just when we’d been fooled into thinking that Spring was around the corner, the cold weather has returned with a vengeance. Yes, last night’s rain has 

Where's the sea gone?

turned into snow. It’s snowing all along the coast! The surrounding hills and mountains are also receiving further snowfalls: good news for winter sports enthusiasts. I wonder if we can sell some of it to Vancouver 2010? 

The boys riding the Tour Mediterraneen Cycliste Professionnel and the Challenge Ciclista Mallorca respectively must be wishing they’d opted/been selected for the Tours of Qatar and Oman, as they’ve both been enduring adverse climatic conditions. Indeed, the manager (Marc Madiot) of yesterday’s stage winner (Yauheni Hutarovich – FDJ) in the Tour of the Med had the foresight to take him on a quick warm up ride before the start. This obviously did the trick. 

Over in Qatar the winds have died down. Stages 3 and 4 ended in bunch sprints with wins for Tom Boonen (Quick Step) and Francesco Chicchi (Liquigas-Doimo). The former reached a speed of 72.4km/hr on his sprint to the line. Coincidentally, the same as my top speed ever which was recorded last year in Austria  descending a 10% incline!  Condolences to Tyler Farrar (Garmin-Transitions) who had four punctures yesterday: careless rider or crap kit, you decide. 

Mindful of yesterday’s VO2max test, I had been practising riding flat out on the home trainer. My appointment was at 09:00am, which necessitated an early start to avoid the traffic. I wanted to ride part of the way as a warm up. I drove as far as Beaulieu sur Mer, where the parking is free while they change over the parking meters, parked the car and hopped on the bike.  My beloved has accused me of becoming “very French” as I seek out free places to park. 

I had timed it to perfection, a quick 10km, at maximum effort, terminating in the climb out of the port in Monaco had left me “glowing”. I arrived with enough time to fill out the forms and take a comfort break. After a number of detailed questions about my medical history and that of my family, we moved on to the highly unpleasant bit: height, weight (Assos kit must be really, really heavy, I hope they took that into consideration) and BMI. I then had to inhale and exhale, as hard as possible, into a machine. The conclusion: average for a woman of my age! 

Then the test itself which was conducted on my bike, fitted with a power tap, and with a machine to gauge my effort fitted over my nose and mouth. I began to feel decidedly claustrophobic. In addition, I was wired up to an ECG and the doctor frequently measured my blood pressure. I started at a max output of 60watts and increased it at regular intervals by 30 watts. First off it was difficult to ride at a constant wattage, nothing like riding those static bikes in the gym. It was pretty easy pedalling to start off with but very soon it became much more arduous. I started to “glow” profusely despite being topless (thank goodness I’d worn one of my prettier sports bras). I have no idea how long the intervals were but it felt like 10 secs to start with and 10 minutes to finish. Their conclusion: I could be an excellent endurance athlete if only I lost the surplus 10kilos around my middle which is restricting my breathing!

Postscript: Nice airport closed, my beloved stranded at Heathrow!

Killed off

Yesterday morning I killed the perpetrator of some unspeakable acts of gluttony. He’d spent the previous night gorging himself on my right shoulder, as the raised red welts bore witness. He’d also dined off my right hand and fingers. Death was the only reasonable response.

The weather has been both cold and chilly this week end, with rain yesterday afternoon and evening. This has not prevented us from riding though it has restricted us to the coastal roads. Our disappointment with the weather was much ameliorated by yesterday’s football scores. After a unsatisfactory loss in the dying minutes to West Ham last Wednesday, the Villa boys bounced back to thump Bolton 5-1. This was particularly gratifying as the number of ex-Villa players at Bolton is legion. Not to be outdone, OGC Nice registered their third win on the trot, treating PSG to their first home loss of the season.

 My beloved’s gout was bothering him again this morning, so I left him in bed and cycled to the club’s rendezvous. A heated discussion ensued on how best to avoid the routes closed to traffic and cyclists alike thanks to the marathon. A solution was rapidly found and off we cycled, shortly to be joined by those from a neighbouring club. Clearly a popular solution which afforded us glimpses of the runners heading in the opposite direction. In Nice, we profited from a closed Promenade des Anglais, cycling merrily across all four of the lanes – what a treat.

 We had somehow misplaced one of our groups and I found myself cycling with the better ie faster riders who dropped me as soon as we climbed out of Nice. I didn’t see most of them again until the pointage although I did pass a few who’d punctured.  The club was continuing on to Menton and returning by way of the same route as last week end. But, given the weather, I decided to cycle straight back. That way I’d have plenty of time to prepare and enjoy lunch before settling down to watch the Chelsea v Manchester United match.

 After yesterday’s frolic in the sun, the Amstel Curacao race won by one

Bert and companion
Bert and companion in Curacao

Alberto Contador, there’s no real racing until the Tour Down Under so it’s during this period that my interest turns to football and cross-country skiing. Yes, yet another sport where the participants wear lycra!

Permanently misplaced

One of my least favourite jobs, apart from the ironing, is doing my husband’s expenses.  However, since I took over doing them I’ve realised that for many years we’ve been funding his previous employers. Yes, if he lost an invoice or receipt then he didn’t claim for it. Now I don’t have to tell you how easily my beloved misplaces things, particularly small things.

I have insisted that wherever possible he pays by card to leave me an audit trail. However, it may be any one  of a number of cards, I have to check all the statements. He also withdraws cash in a variety of currencies for sundry expenses. I have to recoup the residual on his return, and take account of the cash receipts, to determine what’s still outstanding and, believe me, there’s always something.  To piece all of this together requires a fair amount of forensic work. But, if I don’t, then someone else other than us benefits.

Prior to tackling this least favourite of jobs, I rewarded myself with a cycle in the hills. The temperature has dropped a few degrees further and the foliage is now looking distinctly autumnal. There weren’t too many other cyclists out on the same roads as me today. 

This afternoon, I became so engrossed in the trail of elusive paperwork that I forgot the passing of time and had to be forcibly reminded about my coffee date with a girlfriend. We meet up on a regular basis, in one of our haunts, to catch up on all things two-wheeled.

This week end’s pointage is in Beaulieu sur Mer but we will have to cycle Beaulieu sur Merthere without using the coastal route which will be closed for the 2nd Nice-Cannes Marathon. I suspect we may concede defeat and simply have a club ride. I am awaiting an executive decision from M Le President who has taken to calling me his favourite secretary. This is akin to my husband calling me his favourite wife.