Whilst still trying to get over a cold from last week, ex-workmate Peter sent me a late night SMS saying we were riding at 7am Sunday. I couldn’t refuse him because it’s his last weekend in Melbourne before the “Perth relocation” and because I piked last weekend. The new heart rate monitor was ticklishly applied and I rugged up for a cool start. In the warm-up ride to his house, I realised I was either less fit than I thought, or had set the alarm too low, because the darn thing started beeping every 5 seconds. I was hitting 165bpm before the start of a 60k ride with the machine that is Alan – Pete’s 27 y.old nephew. Gulp.
The ride progressed smoothly enough – but today we had 6 hot air balloons keeping us company as we caught every set of lights to Altona Pier, where some hardy triathlon folks were ready to start an event – surely they weren’t going to do the swim leg in this sort of weather? Two thirds of the ride done, we dropped in to Williamstown for a customary coffee and snack – today it was a chocolate Florentine. Plenty of other cyclists gulping down the same and lethargically getting back onto their steeds.
It was a straightforward ride home except for the lump of 2×4 pine on Millers Rd. that I apparently “nonchalantly bunny-hopped” like a pro. Wow – I didn’t know I was capable of grace during sporting activity. Usually people say things like “Boy, you can really see the veins in your forehead” etc.. My theory is that I was so tired, I didn’t have time or energy to panic about it.
 Getting home, it was time for chores and the dogs needed their monthly squirt of anti-flea medication on the back of their necks. They don’t like it, so we disguise what we’re going to do and zap them at the last minute. Afterwards Chloe won’t stop moving for 3 hours; she keeps walking in circles to get clean air so she can’t smell the alcohol stink just behind her head. It is powerful stuff. Within half an hour, our freshly washed dog stuck her head in the dirt to bring an end to it all. It didn’t work too well, but we captured the look for her legion of fans. Fergus, who takes double Chloe’s dosage, is oblivious to it all and would probably lick it if he could.
Regular early morning Williamstown diners: “tissues” Darren, “Goretex” Pete, and “leg warmers” Alan.
“They’re not fleas, they’re breadcrumbs!”