Love downhills, Hate snakes

I have much to say today, so bear with me:

Today I cycled over or around 5 snakes. The number is not so much the issue - I have cycled or run over more than 5 on a particular day, a number of times. Today's snakes, however, were particularly fresh. In fact, they were so robust that they could've been very healthy snakes, if they weren't dead! All of my previous encounters have been of the dessicated variety. And it's no secret that I hate snakes, so I nearly fell off my wee bike at each encounter.

I have also come to the conclusion that runners and mountain bikers are way more friendly than racing bikers. Now what makes me think this? I am a social tart and feel it my personal duty to greet all fellow runners and bikers. And so off I tootle, with a friendly "Good morning" to all and sundry. Most runners and mountain bikers will greet back, but the racing bikers are a different breed.

Alan (my training planner) says that I have to cycle 3 times a week for an hour each time. I try to do at least one of these mountain biking on Mt Cootha, but alas, on the other days I can't always find some willing sole to come to Mt Cootha with me. And I'm not keen to go on my own, as there'd be no one to call the ambulance for me if I fall off (I've had a ride in an ambulance with a fellow cyclist who broke his collar bone, so have some experience in this matter!). So I am forced to take to the road on my other one or two cycling days.

Here I have to explain my bike. I ride a mongoose mountain bike - bottom of the range, basic bike, but I love my mongoose and he has served me well. Due to budgetary constraints, the only tyres I have for mongoose are very knobbly mountain biking tyres. But even if I had the smoother road tyres I would probably be too lazy to change them. This makes my mountain bike the equivalent of a Dakota, while the racing bikes that go flying past me are the equivalent of stealth bombers. As such, when a racing biker passes me in the opposite direction I don't expect a "hello" because they are going way too fast. BUT, when they overtake me on a hill I am unaware of their presence until they are next to me. This generally gives me a heart attack (remember that I am on snake high alert!) and so once I've regained my balance, I yell a greeting at them, to which I get no response - just an emblazoned bum in the air in front of me. Yes Mr lend-lease-on-your-arse! It is common courtesy to greet someone when they greet you. So please, racing bikers, greet us poor mountain bike puffers and GET A BELL to warn us of your approach!!!

I managed to go further today on my little road ride, than I have before, and clocked a whole 20km! Before you scoff and the distance, remember what I've just said above, and then imagine Telly Tubby fields with a road winding through them - up and down and up and down. There are no dipsy's and laa laa's, but there is a pig postbox which is decorated seasonally. Today it is a Valentine's cupid and I promise to take a pic of it soon. It was quarantined a few months ago during the swine flu epidemic. Along this route is also a real English phone booth in the middle of a horse paddock, and a microwave post box - a real microwave!

All this exercise is starting to pay off. The thighs are looking less like a cyclonic stormy sea, and more like a little choppy. And if I look at my stomach in the mirror, while squinting out of the one eye, there is definitely a bit of washboard happening there!

And so it's all good! To the great wall and beyond...............