I stand corrected: being a bike geek was actually a lot more fun than I had anticipated. I genuinely had no idea what to expect at the indoor world championships. I thought I would be bored stupid, and have to drink a remarkable amount of beer in order to remain content. Au contraire Rodney – it was radical (and I don’t use that term lightly). Firstly, we had the most amazing seats on the home straight just before the finish line, thanks to the string pulling of some friends’ of friends’ boss’s sister’s husband. Secondly, I got to witness Australia getting SMASHED on home turf by the boys from the Motherland. Actually, the Aussies didn’t get smashed – it was an amazing race, with the lap splits oscillating the advantage between one team and then the other. But nothing beats the feeling of standing up and screaming to your Australian husband the words “IN YOUR FACE AUSSIE LOSER”. I’m sure he will be able to get his revenge come the Olympics. And the cricket. And the rugby.
The bike geek session last night also managed to instil a major fear of Gluteous-Maximous-consumption, that is, the fear of cycling so much that the muscles in your arse swell to the size of watermelons. I have actually never seen such big arses (and I have a big arse, so I can say that). And on supremely fit human specimens as well. I had no idea this could happen. Need to steer clear of pushing big gears up big hills from now on. There is absolutely no room for growth in my booty, I have trunk enough.