They're sneakers... for sneaking

The weird thing about getting as organised as we are is that you're always wary about what you've forgotten.
I've developed wedding paranoia. I'm always thinking I've missed something at the moment.
Have the doves got matching outfits?
Did we buy enough shacklegribblers?
Are there enough 'lasers' for the wedding party?

It's the feeling something is sneaking up behind you. You're not sure what it is but you know something's there.

The paranoia is, of course, much better than a last minute panic. Where you find the trained racing pigeons, that we had to get instead of the doves, have all gone on strike.

Around that we're fitting in the bits of everyday life we all have, some Lent bits and the bike. It can lead to moments where you're discussing swatches for the big day and then wondering who is taking out the recycling (it's usually me), all the while trying to get out and balance.

I didn't have any stair music today but had some company up the stairs. It was fun, it's nice to have someone to walk beside. You don't feel so foolish.
Well, you feel silly when you see people coming out of the lifts, but at least you're not feeling silly on your own.

Yesterday, however, I managed, finally, to get some music by Rufus Wainwright for my journey. For those who don't know him, you're missing out.

Flying visit

This may be the shortest blog I write.

The day has been a blur.
Crammed everything in.
Work went well.
Stag stuff on way.
Food shopping bought.
Wolfed down grub.

Song for stairs:

I have to say this beautiful song has been a wee oasis for me today. I'm sure it'll calm down tomorrow.

Prep

Two cool things happened today. One for the wedding and one for Monty.

Our invites took a huge step forward with the arrival of two important parts. Again, I'm writing this under embargo so this is probably as far as I can go with the topic.

I promise you, I'll be able to tell more soon. It's just all under wraps at the mo and I'm quite pleased. It's nice to have a surprise or two.

Secondly, as part of Lent work (need a new term for that - bit clunky) I finally sorted out Monty's lights. She's now looking spiffing with a spotlight at the front. I was quite proud of myself when it was finally done, although we did go though some teething troubles.

To start with, Monty's spotlight was pointing to the sky. It would have a Bat-signal for Cheltenham, which would have been quite cool.

She also has a tiny rear light which flashes. At one point my fingers got trapped and the lights couldn't be turned off. The bike store suddenly looked like a budget 90s rave as featured on 'edgy' episodes of Grange Hill or Biker Grove. The music was in those episodes, no doubt, 'banging'. Here, the only noises that could be heard was the occasional swearword. 

Granted, in the right hands swearing can have a certain melody but with mine it was a bit more 'staccato'.

As I've mentioned before, I'm not the most practical of blokes. I do look on in awe at any with that string to their bow. 

My brothers are both fantastic at this sort of thing. 

All of the WTB's family, especially the WTB, are also great at this. 

Me? 

Um. Yeah, let's just say I'm not gifted at it. I even have a bad influence on those who are usually experts. When my middle brother Ed and I put together a barbecue we attached the wheels to the wrong part. The once advertised 'portable' outdoor cooking tool became somewhat stuck. I'm blaming me for that*.

Before I left the store I tried all the bike bells I could see. The best? A Minnie the Minx bell on a Raleigh Caprice. Who'd have thought? I wonder if they do a Biffo the Bear one.

The stair challenge went well. The music was somewhat highbrow today:

I stomped up the stairs, leaping in the air when I reached the top. OK, I sort of did that after cooling down. 

It was still pretty neat though.

*Although, to be fair, it was a particularly hot Cornish day and only cider could quench our thirst. Thinking about it, that could have also played a part. Quite a large part.

Morning climb

I arrived at the office, ready to take on my stair challenge for Lent.

Our office is on the third floor and so I've decided to get rid of my normal podcast to give me a little travelling music. 

Decided by fruit-based God of fate, my phone picked:

So far, so good. I mean it could have been much worse... trust me. But then a bad song may force me to walk quicker.

Anyway, was a little breathless come the top. And red faced. And cursing the colder weather for my thick winter coat.

But I know it'll get better.

The WTB has had an exciting day. She's been out with her mum and sister to hunt for 'the dress'. 

It has been found. Huzzah. Good news all round.

So, for the other part of my lent deal. I've chased some things for the big day and the bike. Once I'm home tomorrow night I'm hoping I'll be able to saddle up for a wee bit and get Monty some air.

Talking of the wonderful machine, I may get Monty a bell. The WTB asked why...

...

Um...

The only thing I could think of was: What else would I ring?

I think that should win that fight for now.

Surely every cyclist has one? 

They're cool, right? 

Right?

Tricky

It has been 'one of those days.'

You know the ones. Nothing has been straightforward but I feel these are the days you can learn from. I've actually quite enjoyed it. It's good to have a tricky day to negotiate.

As long as you don't spend hours looking back, picking out the smallest detail of things, you can learn a lot.

Except... well I tend to linger on days like today. As a colleague of mine says, I 'torture' myself.

Ahem.

Crashing on.

Things are increasing on the wedding front. I'm not sure what bike/wedding things will start my lent run but I've had a couple of things to enjoy today.

Firstly, we've had something arrive for the invitations which is rather groovy. The things, and I can't wait to tell you what they are but I assume everything I know about the wedding is under embargo (it just helps things with the WTB), have come out much better than I imagined. They're very, um, us.  Especially the colour.

Secondly, stag business is picking up The best man and the best woman have been busy bees. Lovely stuff.

I'm ready for lent I think. I hope my body's ready for it too.

Fresh goals

Every year I give up something for lent.

For those who don't know here's a link but the crux of it is you give something up for 40 days.

In the past I've given up chocolate (quite easy), crisps (tough) and caffeine (perhaps the silliest thing I've ever done).

This year I've decided up to up the ante somewhat. I'm taking on three things.

I did look at giving things up but, let's face it, we haven't got much to give up. We've cut out sweet stuff, I haven't bought a packet of crisps since the new year and that would just leave booze.

Er...

We have the WTB's 30th coming up and, let's be honest, it probably won't be without a drink or two.

So, the plan is this. Every day I will spurn the lift and I'm using the stairs to the third floor.

Then I will also do one thing for the wedding and one thing for the bike per day.

My aim? To be riding properly before the end of lent.

I may not make it but man, I love a deadline.

Cool and the gang

According to the BBC I'm about to become cool.

I say about to become cool. I know it'll take a while to get in with the in-crowd, but cycling does seem to be hitting the headlines. It could be that I'm more aware of cycling stories but, dammit, this is my blog and I'm sticking by it.

I've never been cool. I've had some cool hobbies like lomography and liked some cool music but when you love choral music and drink whisk(e)y, cool isn't the word that springs to mind.

Middle class? Maybe.

Middle aged? Before my time but oh yes.

Cool? Nah.

I feel safe in the knowledge that I'll be among that group of cyclists that just kind of plods along and does his thing.

Hopefully it'll give me a bit of longevity. It dawned on me today I never wanted to learn this skill more than I do at the moment. I just want to get the learning over and get out there.

I know it's little and often but I think frustration is hitting again.

Just my type

As much as the WTB gets obsessed with interiors, I get quite intense when it comes to words, fonts and everything typographical.

So. The wedding invites.

They've got to have the right colour and tone (especially for the WTB) and the font needed to be just right (for both of us).

So. This has taken a bit of time.

Tonight I think we've finally cracked it.

I am carrying slightly less hair than when we started. The ever-growing forehead has a few fresh wrinkles. My eyes are a wee bit sore.

But yes, I think they're ready... ish.

There are a few bits to do on them but there's almost a tick in the 'invite' box.

We're determined to get more things done this weekend. With that and more time on Monty it's going to be packed.

Lovely stuff.

Block

I've started this blog three times tonight and, so far, I've not found a satisfying beginning.

In fact, I've not yet decided on a good subject.

Usually, before I sit down with Annie, the WTB's Mac (chalk up another name for the list), I've got something in my mind that I will write about.

Whether it's Monty, a wedding doodah or something particularly odd that's happened, I usually can muster something for my fingers to dance over.

I sit and type, never really knowing how it's going to go or where I'll end up.

But today? Nada. It's a slow news day in my brain.

I assume this is a kind of 'writer's block' but, as I'm still writing I assume I have something to write about.

Tomorrow, I hope this will be better. It's Valentine's, as you probably know, and I've got a day off, which you probably didn't know. The WTB and I have something planned. We're off to the theatre. It's not a taxing piece we're seeing so my mind can relax, unwind and have a giggle. 

I think the last few weeks have caught up with my noggin. It's slacking a bit and I'm in danger of falling back into bad habits. I could kill a beer, an ale, something sweet or all three.

Instead, I'm going to look at this keyboard and hope something better comes out from my fingertips tomorrow.

Stag daze

This weekend has been crammed with both work and play, and a couple of times these have crossed over.

As well as a rewarding day at work today, I spent Saturday walking round Oxford with my best man, my best woman and their partners.

It was a stunning day. It included pubs, a trip to an ice cream parlour (with a waffle of filthy proportions), pubs and getting stuck in a revolving door at the Ashmolean.
For those who haven't been, the city's a maze of different streets, colleges and historic buildings. AND, it's packed with bikes. My newly established cycling envy found a new playground.

Anyway, we got a fair bit sorted with notes taken and a few ales sunk.

It's given us more things to think about before the big day. The countdown, in our heads, is getting quicker. The heartbeat of the wedding is getting faster and louder every day. It's exciting.

Tonight we've looked at colours and plants. It's the small things you didn't expect, the things that sneak up, that can cause mishaps.

I think we've got all of them covered. Only time will tell...

Eating tri-umph

The last few days have been a bit of a blur.

Early starts at work combined with packed evenings after left us both a little tired.
And, to be honest, my diet has taken a hit.
Take Thursday night's tea.
It was made up of:
A triangle of Toblerone
An apple
One and a half chicken fillets
I'm pretty sure that's all the major food groups covered.
Aren't you meant to have at least three triangle shaped foods* a day?

I've also had a bike riding carrot dangled in front of me. Yesterday, I was given a tour of our new cycling store at work.

It's the biking Batcave.

OK, it's a normal store but it's like a secret base for all the cycling superheroes.

It even has a SHOWER.

Monty must take her place there.

Today, I get to meet up with my best man and my best woman. I haven't seen either in quite a while so to say I'm a tad excited is an understatement.



*Other triangle food: tortilla chips, Dairylea/Laughing Cow, grapefruit bit, two halves of a
Muller Corner eaten at different times, slice of cake viewed from above, samosa, bought packaged sandwiches, slice of pizza.

The hard sell

"So, you'll want stabilisers."

I walked into my local bike shop for the first time and I felt like I'd entered a secret society.

Shacklegriblers hung from walls. Men with focused faces walked about with purpose. Words were whispered in code.

I felt a tad out of my depth.

It's weird. I've spent years hiding the fact that I couldn't ride a bike. Excuses were made with friends and, on press trips, I had to pretend I had a phobia.
But since writing this blog, I've been admitting it to so many people. It's now like a badge of honour. "Yes, I can't ride a bike. But dammit, I'm trying to learn."

And so here I was, in a shop I'd walked past hundreds of times before. By the way, this ranks as the second manliest thing I've done, after buying a hammer.

I'd gone in to pick up a pump. While Monty has a nifty one that I occasionally will use as a stand-in lightsaber (stand-in, that is, until they perfect the science), Diana needed a new one. She's got this weird valve (ahem) which needed an adaptor and a pump.

Anyway, in I went.

I went for the casual browser method of shopping to start off with. Just looking around and blending in with the background. I wouldn't stand out, I'd just seem like a man who'd been in a thousand bike shops before. I was one of them.

When I realised I was the only one in the shop,  I approached the chap behind the counter. He went for the hard sell at first, pointing me in the direction of the second coolest looking pump I'd ever seen. You could stand on it and push a plunger up and down. I guess it's based on one of those vehicles you see on train tracks in films, usually controlled by someone causing mischief or in a mishap.

When I told him about the learning the stabiliser suggestion hit the table. I gave a polite laugh, guessing he was joking.

He wasn't.

He seemed a little upset.

A little embarrassed, I picked up the cheapest pump in the shop, a free cycling map and a leaflet from the groovy people at Sustrans for a bike pack. Lovely.

I'm trying to get into the whole bike culture. I've joined The Times Cycle Safety campaign and now I've been in my first bike shop.

Let's hope the second visit is a little more successful.

Counting down

So we've roared into February and the wedding is another month closer.
Not that I'm panicking. Oh no. I am a perfect example of a relaxed gentleman. My hands are not shaking. My brow is not furrowed.
I've always said that the wedding and what it means does not worry me. It's all the things that come with the day.
We've got a lot to do and, as a scientist will verify, even less time than yesterday.

And yet...

Well if you don't stop and smell the flowers on occasion it will pass you by. Tonight, we're having a night on the sofa. We've had a little bit of chocolate and we're having a night off.

OK, I know, I've avoided the bags of chocolate in work, tortured myself about it, and now I go and break the sweet treat embargo. The difference? Well, not much if I'm truthful.
But, as they say in some dodgy American reality shows (not that I watch them) I've done it on my own terms. The choc has been weighed out and put away. We've rationed it and we're being truthful about what we've had.

The tasty lapse doesn't mean I've forgotten my quest for fitness.

Tomorrow, as mentioned, it's my day off and Monty comes out hiding for a breath of fresh air. They're letting me out unsupervised. Whether that's a wise thing we can only wonder... until tomorrow. Obviously. Then we'll probably realise it wasn't a good move.

In the afternoon, I'm looking at a gym. I say gym, apparently it's a fitness 'studio' which means they want me to do fitness classes.



Stopped laughing?



How about now?


I'm tempted to try a circuits class, depending on how shouty the trainers turn out to be. I'm not good at being yelled at during fitness classes and so I'll only take a session if I can wear earplugs.
Or earmuffs.

I'll pick ear protection depending on the season.

The white stuff

Today I was meant to fit in a session on Monty. By that I mean another go at the scoot-weeee-balance thingy.
But this afternoon it started to snow. And it's still snowing.
While I appreciate and enjoy a challenge, the idea for my second lesson was not: How to cope in the next ice age.

So instead we've hit the wedding prep. WTB has been to two wedding dress shops and, after meeting for lunch (and maybe one nip to a pub, for a wee nip) we popped to the travel agents.
There then seemed to be a whizz of numbers, words and phrases.
The whole thing flashed by me in what seemed a matter of minutes. I remember the hotels we looked at. I remember the destination. But some of the finer details? Please ask me a question on quantum physics instead.

I'm now sat at home, with the WTB on another dress mission with Timi. I've drunk one hot choc instead of having a beer. It was banana flavour.

It really is rock and roll in the Doney house today.

Bring on the Six Nations. It's my favourite sporting tournament in the world. I may celebrate with a white chocolate low-cal hot choc now.

No pain, no gain

There comes a time when you have a dining experience that blows everything else out of the water.

When the finest ingredients work in harmony with each other.

When the chef is at the top of their game.

When the ambiance and experience of your venue blends seamlessly with your state of mind.


Tonight I had baked beans and fish fingers for tea.


While it goes completely against what I should be eating, and while there was nothing fresh in sight, it was bloody good.
The tasty breadcrumbed fish worked beautifully with the tomatoey beans. The chef had cooked the meal perfectly. And, with an old episode of The Simpsons on, it was a nice time to relax.

So, while the WTB was enjoying a double zumba spectacular, I was tucking into the best that Cpt Birdseye and Mr Heinz had to offer. Pure comfort food.

Saturday. That's my next bike lesson. I spoke to my eldest brother Rich and he recommended the gel pad I fitted to the saddle on Sunday. "You'll get callouses in place you didn't know existed," he said, chuckling down the phone.
He's right you know. I'm pretty sure I've got a normal body but once I start riding properly (see, positive thinking) there will be aches and pains in my shacklegribbler.
And, while I'm laughing here at the Carry On-esque sentence I've just written, give me a few weeks and I'll look back at those words and curse that innuendo-laden sentence.

As I'm working Sunday I've got Tuesday off. Yet another day of avoiding the pub and I'm planning to do some riding on my own.

Bravery, don't fail me now.

Fighting temptation

Like any workplace, the office usually offers up a realm of temptation when it comes to food.

There are the obligatory biscuits and packets of crisps, the occasional plate of sandwiches and, on special occasions, trays of tasty pastry snacks for us to feast on.

In the past I've indulged with the rest of the newsroom and happily demolished the food, grabbing the grub as quickly as I can.

But, and you're no doubt ahead of the game here, I've stuck to my own food since the start of 2012. And I think it has been one of the reasons I've kept the weight off.

I've obviously anger the god of gluttony though as this week we've had:
Biscuits
Cookies
Shortbread
Chocolate snacks
McDonald's breakfast items
and boxes of chocolates

Yeah, it has been a challenge.

In moments like this (as Leona Lewis sang, pop fans), I take a sip of my lovely black coffee or a glug of water, look at the space where my fruit sat (as it's already gone by this stage) and plough on with my work.
I think of the wedding, of staying healthy and how well the WTB and I are doing.
I think of my calorie targets, how fit I want to be and what I should look like on the wedding day.
I also think of saying balls to it all and tucking in to the array* of food.

It seems that every day until September will offer some sort of foodie challenge. Don't get me wrong, it's a great challenge to have.

I've just got to keep going, make sure the big day is always in my mind and, perhaps, take in a vat of apples to munch my way through.




*Using that word as my old editor hated it. I'm not a fan but it's good to give words an airing now and again, just to remind you why you don't use them.