Death From Above

Cycling, it's fun. (It's low impact while the shin splints heal).

The Tour desk Yorkshire sportive is on 6th May and I need to be able to cycle 50 miles over hills by then. Today was the first training ride... 24 miles in two hours. It's a start! Legs are tired tho, so more strength training is needed.

The promised sun didn't turn up for the ride (boo) but it is thin cloud at last, one cane see hints of blue through it. And it's not freezing for once!

Protein shakes still don't taste great.

WEEKEND HAS ARRIVED! WOOOO!!! and other expressions of excitement.

Last weekend was the annual visit to sweetsyren with associated geeking out and awesomeness. We went out for lunch for her birthday (tasty foods were tasty - especially the delicious slow roasted pork).

Then there was a week of work. What to say? There were 'todes. The 'todes were washed, the 'todes were collected, the 'todes were murdered in a number of nasty little ways. Was good and went to Boxercise again. Legs of Logs were the overall result. Ow. But hey, it's good for me, right?

Finally Friday happened. The Opera Festival officially opened with fireworks and my small dinner party to introduce some new folks to my amazing view went down delightfully well.

The additional bonus of the Fringe Festival live music competition in the bar downstairs was very much enjoyed. As were a generous assortment of accompanying beverages.

Currently eating tea and toast and watching Hercules on the smallest screen ever. Still funny though.

I'm a bit confused. I hope there isn't a concert tomorrow night. TH needs sleep.

I'm gonna miss Torchwood tonight (get-together with friends) and I'm not that bothered. It was a bit drab last week. I'll catch up somehow I'm sure.

50 km in 1:58.30

YAY!!! Average speed 15 mph, which was a personal best blowing all other average speeds out of the water. And it was definitely worth sprinting the final km to save those 90 seconds.

UNDER TWO HOURS, PEOPLE. I win ALL the things.

Thanks of course must go out to all the people whose wheels I clung onto for the first 10 km until I cleared the pack. I paid them back! Well, I "played it forward". Someone was on my wheel for at least 15 minutes on the last 20 km. Ooooh, that last 20 km.

TH hits main road, with delicious smooth surface.
TH looks at watch and calculates possibility of getting a sub 2 hour time.
TH tanks it for 20 mins uphill and down with moaning and swearing and cursing and gritted teeth.

A funny thing, speedy racer type bikes were much faster than Festus on down-hills, but he seems to have a much better power efficiency on up-hills. There were 6 - 8 of us continuously passing and re-passing each other for most of the undulating middle section. I have to admit, it gave me a warm glow to steam past frantically pedalling lycra clad speedy racer bike riding individuals.

Good ole Festus.

*pops a beer and hunts for a randomly bad film to watch*

(Today I ran a gel, and saw lines. Very cool. No 'Todes lines but never mind. I also did PCR. I am molecular biologist nao. Payrise plz?)

I say may, because I met a man in the pub last night and I'm waiting for him to call me this morning and confirm that he's willing to take me out for the day.

...

Actually, it's less exciting than that. Wending my wobbly way home from the comedy festival last night/this morning (Sarah Millican is HYSTERICALLY FILTHY in real life and I laughed so much I thought I was going to asphyxiate myself from lack of breathing) I was just considering my warm and cosy bed when I noticed the barman was having a smoke break in the doorway of the pub.

"Hullo!" Sayeth I, being in a somewhat merry mood despite the lateness of the hour.

"Hullo," replyeth he. "Your mate be inside, drinking cheerily. You should pop in and say hi."

"I should," thought I! (For I am nothing if not persuadable when tipsy). "Let me past and I shall do so forthwith."

The outcome of which was that there was the drinking of more beverages and it did come to pass that I was informed of the exciting news that my landlord was taking some relations to the Duncannon Military Festival (RE-ENACTMENT SQUEE) and there might be room in the car for a little one. Emboldened by my vodka consumption I ventured to enquire as to whether I could be cheeky and tag along for the fun.

Hence you find me. Slightly hungover and awaiting a phone call. With coffee. And slight trepidation.

(I wore my StarWorms T-shirt today. May The Fourth Be With You! Had to educate a LOT of science folk into the true nature of geekery. I don't think they will ever look at me the same way again. Is kinda good though, a four month grace period was long enough.)

Having worked the official weekend, I then spent the entirety of my one day weekend (also known as the bank holiday) not doing all the many things that weekends are for, but instead writing fic. All day. Trust me, you guys should be thankful to sweetsyren, because without her I wouldn't even have remembered to eat.

Anyway. I then couldn't face turning Donal on last night to do edits or anything so I spent the evening doing washing/baking bread/doing a big shop/finally dealing with the washing up. So now I have clean clothes, a fridge full of edible things and a clean kitchen. Life be good.

Oh and I watched Star Trek III, The Search For Spock while I was doing all the many things. How slashy is that towards the end?

And as a reward I had Olivia Williams and Rupert Graves. Mmm. Well done ITV. And I don't say that often.

Violence and running around and short shorts and very fast paced play and wow. I LOVE this game. Only wish I had known this when I was a young un. I'm a bit to old to enjoy getting twatted about the hands/shins by a slab of wood. The sun shone and it was a lovely day. Has been a pretty awesome weekend all round yesterday. One teeny rain shower, but that meant I was forced to stay in and unpack the box marked "photos". Found some from my Masters and our trip to Venice. I'd forgotten any had been taken! Good memories.

Live games are definitely better than tv. There was shouting. Encouragement of course! Though the odd moment of abuse might have slipped out. I blame it on the Hot Thermos of Coffee with a Wee Dram slipped into it.

In the lull, halfway through the second half, I had a terrible urge to yell "YOU'RE A W***ER NUMBER NINE". But I resisted it. Didn't think anyone but me would find it funny.

Oh, and Wexford lost. Of course. Ah well.

This coming week is St Paddy's Day. We get the day off! Currently feeling very Irish.

Two hours sleep on the ferry, two hours sleep on the bus, one fry-up and a constant stream of coffee but the entire content of the store is boxed, labelled and ready to be shipped.

Now, where are those matchsticks? My eyes won't stay open.

Other things you might like to know.

In work, it's been busy, but fun. I can hereby inform you that it was seriously cold in Budapest in February in 2009, but really quite warm in Sicily in April. Yes, you can find anything online if you look hard enough. Or long enough. Or with enough loud music in your ears.

The French kicker may be the best looking guy in the whole of the Six Nations Tournament.

I like beer (but you knew that already)

My football team beat Barcelona. BEAT THEM.

And centrifuging distorts the tube something chronic.

Hello Friday, nice to see you. Looking forward somewhat to the weekend, not sure why as I haven't earned it work wise. Mind you, the Job Centre have decided that I am worthy of a teeeeeeny smidgeon of money so life isn't all bad.

I'm sat up in bed, fully dressed with additional dressing gown. This is due to extraordinary complicated heating not coming on upstairs until 9pm. Hood is up. Feeling very much like a boxer.