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.

Balancing act

If you're ever learning a new skill, then my advice is the day before you start don't have too many drinks.

Sadly, I don't take my own advice.

It has been quite a busy few days. On Friday I payed a flying visit to Cornwall to catch up with my niece before she turned two. Saturday saw me tackle some wedding bits, complete some housework, cook and fit in a small gym session with my friend Timi.
On Saturday night we decided to blow off some steam.

I don't know if this is a sensible thing or a stupid thing but we ended up playing drinking games with wine.

I know.

It's stupid.

The WTB and I didn't stumble home too late but, come the morning, the mild hangover and the extreme Thai Red Bull were having an influence on our mental state. It was cold. My head ached. Dehydration had it.

Really, it was the perfect condition to start my bike riding quest.

After struggling down to the bike store, Monty was brought up, the saddle changed (to something a little more forgiving) and I was ready for my debut scoot-weeeeee-balance session.

You know what? It was fine.

I'm not saying that within a couple of days I should be up and running but, in the words of the WTB, my balance was better than expected.

It really was fine. I can keep my legs off the floor for a bit so that's given me a bit of confidence.

Monty is a bit of a beast so I also had a go on Diana, the WTB's Dawes (see what we did there? I told you I like to name things).

Diana and Monty – together at last

Diana is a bit smaller, bit lighter and I find it easy to get my leg over with her...

Ahem

We did about and hour and while I still had some mental blocks – at one point I just couldn't get moving – I had, and this is the good part, fun.

I know it'll be a challenge, I know it'll get harder, but I could get used to this.

So next time you're hungover, dragging your body around and not making much sense, try learning a new skill.
Pick up a trombone and give it a play.
Write that novel.
Learn to juggle.
You'll be surprised how good it makes you feel.

Or just go for a fry-up.

Stepping forward

Is there a better dance than the Birdie Dance?
I've been thinking about the whole concept of the 'first dance' at our wedding and I'd like to narrow it down to either the Hokey Cokey or the Birdie Dance. Or Superman by Black Lace.
I'm not sure what the WTB will say.
I'm hoping it is yes.

Please excuse the delirium, I've got a day off on Friday after working on Sunday. It'll be nice to recharge the batteries.

Now we count down to Sunday and Monty's time in the fresh air.

The bike riding is becoming a mix of the elephant in the corner and something I feel I'm rabbiting on about. Whatever it is, the large flop-eared animal is dominating things at the moment.

To take my mind off things I'm going to the gym on Saturday. It'll be the first time in ages and I'm quite looking forward to it. It'll be something different

Then, come Sunday morning, it'll be on with the padded pants, gloves, helmet and we'll head to our top secret cycling spot for lessons.

If you happen to be passing through Cheltenham on Sunday and spot a grown man throwing a temper tantrum while covered in cuts or, if things go badly, you see a bike being thrown across a footpath, be sure to ignore me and pretend it didn't happen.

Looking back and falling down

I guess the one thing I know will happen on Sunday is that I will fall off.

I will fall off and probably be a crumpled mess on the floor as the WTB looks at the sack of shame beneath her. And she giggles. She is one of those people who find You've Been Framed! hilarious.

So, no doubt, she will find my accidents very funny. And I use accidents in the plural - there will be more than one.

While my mind is probably playing tricks on me, and the WTB won't laugh too much, I have to face the facts that falling off is part of riding a bike whether you're a learner or a seasoned professional.

I think I can deal with the pain. It'll only be a few knocks and bumps leading to scrapes, scabs and weird marks on my legs/arms/torso. But, as with most things, it's the anticipation that's a killer. If I could only have a timetable of accidents planned out, then I could prepare. "Ah 2.05pm. I'll hit my ass in a minute. Time to clench."

As I prepare to get back on the bike, I can see all those moments I fell off in the past. The failed attempts at balancing. Those times I nearly had it... and then realised I didn't have it and the ground was getting closer to my body at an alarming rate.

But with those memories are fresh thoughts of enjoying bikes. Of going on boozy rides with my brothers and wobbling back in. Ideas of riding to work. Jaunts with the WTB. Dashing round town with a long list of errands like the Sultan of Cycling. Getting fit. Being in a decent shape for the wedding.

It's time to be confident about this.

While I may still be the sack of shame on the floor, I've just got to 'grow a pair' and get back on.