BoaB has been off the bike again (still?) and is very sick indeed of being sick. I am starting to blame his workplace, because ever since he moved into a detached building he has been sick. Being a supportive sort of spouse I have been riding for two and spinning up some decent numbers for the week. I went to the dam every day except Friday, and enjoyed variable conditions that made every ride unique. It was windy enough on Tuesday that I think Badger may have noticed a bit of a breeze. It was a lashy tree branches sort of a morning, but I have come to enjoy a bit of 'riding uphill' without the psychological barrier of actually riding up a hill.
Friday was a beautiful morning, but I spent my 'dam time' on the bike path looking for an earring. The previous evening I had noticed my local Councillor ahead, caught him up and removed my earbuds so we could talk about plans afoot for a mass ride. I felt something ping off my chest but didn't pay any mind to it. Only later did I realise I was missing an earring, and I knew when it had gone.
So there I am wandering slowly along the scene of the crime in the vain hope that a hundred walkers would have resisted the glint of diamonds. Now this is where the somewhere nice part kicks in... every cyclist who went by, in either direction, stopped to ask if "I was right" because I obviously wasn't cycling. Now that is nice. One older gent stopped and we had a bit of a yarn while I combed the verge. He recognised the Canadian accent (always a good conversation starter) and told me that his Father had been in the Australian navy, trained in Halifax during WW2 and served in the North Atlantic. We compared health notes (I am in recovery from decades of high cholesterol, he was cycling nearly 20kms each way for physiotherapy after knee surgery) and we congratulated each other for taking charge of our long term health by cycling everywhere.
Then we concluded the earring was probably under new ownership and cycled our separate ways. I was going to go straight to work but a colleague caught me on the road and suggested we could fit in a ride part way to the dam. Off he took and I dug very deep indeed to hold on and make it to the turn with my pride intact (he seemed to think it was a given I could). So now I know I need a training partner to force me to lift it up a notch. I need to get BoaB back up to speed and on his bike.