Hurrah! got home from work on Friday afternoon to find my new skinsuit awaiting me, Ran upstairs and slipped it on. Then calmed down and got excited about the prospect of Sundays 'cross race.
Prior to that though I had the treat of a bivy night up on the North Downs. Got myself all set to go slipped into some warming spandex, helmet strapped on, pack on, grabbed my bike and headed out the door when the minor inconvenience of my light not working reared its ugly head. Never mind i thought I'll just change the battery, Hmm tried both my other batteries which were fully charged but not a bean ah well i think this can be added to the list of things killed by Thetford and rain :-( Fortunately i still had my working head torch and it was all go. The bivy was great despite being woken up by someone growling at thier dog as a form of communication at 4 in the morning. All this was soon a memory as the coffee was brewed and we watched the sun rise over the valley below us. Good byes were said and off we pedaled towards the saturdays ahead of us. For myself more riding for my felow bivyer (?) it was a saturday of gardening.
Sunday: Ah 'cross how it should be rain, mud and a chill in the air. Round 7 was held at Reed Court Farm, Marden back into the Kent country side. Not my ideal course the start involved a drag race up a gentle bumpy grass covered rise followed by a pancake flat route around the edge of some fields interspersed with twisty singletrack through a copse's. Once again the pace was hot i was just getting into my rhythm when my bike started to feel a little loose. The source of the looseness was soon found to be my left hand crank which had creaked during the practice lap and I had written off with a Blase "these cranks always creak" After a few attempts i managed to find a spectator with a 5mm Allen key to fix my woes and with my cranks duly tightened set about making up some lost ground my legs felt great and all was good. For 1 lap just as i came past the previously mentioned gentleman spectator he enquired how my fix was holding up to which i replied she was running just fine. Maybe i should just keep my damn fool mouth shut 100m later grinding my way out of a bombhole my left foot made a successful escape for freedom joined by the crank arm too. After a curse and a fumble the offending article were handed to a spectator with a request to look after them until the end and the one leg drill began in a futile attempt to keep going. As i passed the finish line the welcome noise of the bell was heard sweet i thought just one lap of hauling myself around the course using a mixture of running, limping swearing and flailing.
Not the ideal first outing for the skinsuit but things can only improve especially if i listen to what my bike is saying!