Being Involved

Some of you may know that I've been really ill. Like, proper ill. I'm only just starting to leave the house again after a few weeks stuck indoors, in hospital, in an ambulance, in the operating theatre. It's been so bad, I never thought it would happen to someone like me, I thought illnesses happened to lazy or unhealthy people, I thought bad things happened to mean and unfriendly people. It was the most terrifying and distressing time of my life (except the time I got dragged out to sea into huge waves, with no board and got rescued, that was pretty shit too). I now get nightmares about pain and am half convinced/paranoid that I'm going to die in my sleep!

But it was my Mum and my team mates that got me through it. Now, as the latest medication begins to kick in and I realise I can say goodbye to the racing season, I can look back with clarity and know that ultimately I'm still one of the lucky ones. Every week my team mates would come and visit me, and every day they asked how I was doing. It gets pretty annoying when you speak to someone and all they do is moan about how ill they are, but they still asked everyday, and gave me the confidence I needed to talk about it and moan about it everyday. They explored solutions and gave me sympathy, and didn't stop asking.

And I still asked about them, and whenever I had a good day I'd go watch them race, or even train! My Mum said something cringey, she said "at least you can be involved." I thought that was crap. But it's totally true. I watched and supported and talked to them, and have been proud of them. With the Tour Series upon us I have become Pit-Girl (which is hilarious, as I'm super scatty and can't fix a bike) and it has allowed me to be part of everything that's going on. I love cycling, specifically I love women's cycling, but whatever the hobby is, I reckon the people who can stay involved in some way or other, and the people with good friends, are the people that can stay the happiest during shit times.

So go get a hobby before it's too late!! haha

too much stuff

Another weekend, another adventure.
I was preparing to go to Bristol and Bath with the AnaNichoola gloves to show to some of the cool bike shops there. I was combining the trip with a DH race, and aware that on Monday evening I'd have to be packed for a 3 day trip to Milton Keynes where I have a job promoting rollers by riding them. I've never ridden rollers. With a bit of forward thinking I got my boyf to fix up my track bike on Friday night (it's been in pieces since the mini drome) so I could have a quick practice/learn. But a load of things went wrong, and the bike wouldn't work and the series of events led to me sitting on the floor crying because I have too much stuff for 5 days worth of thinking and most of it doesn't work, or I can't do it, and it was a bit overwhelming. And I had a cold. And I'm just a bit of a cry baby. We decided that the track bike was now "good enough" but still a bit fucked, I guess I must have crashed it harder than I thought...
Apparently at 6 am the alarm went off. I disagree. So at 8am there was a rushed panic to the car. It actually turned out to be a fantastic day, meeting the people running independent bike shops and having great success with the gloves. Fingers crossed for 5 new stockists! TBA. As I had my meetings Ed wandered around the towns patiently, we had packed lunch ready in the car (cheese and pickle rolls) and finally ended up the day in the Mud Dock bike cafe. As it got dark next to the river we had a beer and a wine, it's a really, really great place and I recommend anyone to go there.

We met our hosts for the night, my team mate Wiesia's best friends. I'd never met them, but they let us stay in exchange for a dinner of carbonara and Jamaca cake and custard for desert. It was nice to meet some new, lovely people and chill out somewhere different.

The next day was down hill day. I had google searched "down hill near bristol" and was delighted with the result. The Black Canon Collective is one of the best things I have discovered recently, it's like a club for people who want to ride in Frome. The guy that runs it was really welcoming and ensured that we found it ok and the kids that populate it are friendly, chipping in to help mark out their local course and making sure that no litter was left around. You get given a timing watch and time yourself on the run, using honesty to write down your time. I dragged my boyf into racing, he doesn't own a mountain bike (well, he does now, he just bought on on ebay) and I was quite upset that he was hot on my heels. I feel really lucky to date a bloke who is proud when I beat him in a male dominated event, and instead of just leaving me to it, he gets stuck in and gets involved. There aren't many guys like that. And he's really good looking, so it's a double bonus. We both beat a few people, there were no girls there which was a shame. On my final run I crashed on some roots and crushed my fingers under my body armour. I stood up and felt the familiar heat-wave of pain flow through me, I thought they were broken. But then I remembered being laughed at by Louise when I thought that before. They are just bruised, but bruised black and gooooood.

So now it's monday night, I have black fingers and instead of recording my life I really should go and learn how to ride rollers in time for tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!