Tired..?

Once again my arch nemesis Sleep has come knocking at the door.... "Who invited you?!" I scream from my place on the sofa, only to hear the haunting reply "Me?! Why, I'm your plus one...."


I seem to need sleep alot more than other people I know.. I always find myself asleep hours before they finish the party, or failing to get to their meeting they want because I have slept through my multitude of alarms.

Could it be because I work alot, or because I work weekends, so my body knows that it will be leaving for work in a couple of hours so it automatically shuts down when I am at parties? But then, I used to find this when I was younger too, before work. The other one I am famous for is falling asleep in the car on the way back from a ride. Luckily I never drive to a ride, so it is in the passenger seat this happens. Even if it is only 6pm, or if we have only done a short ride, I will inevitably fall asleep as soon as we hit the road.

The other part of this that I have only discovered upon moving out into a flat with a mate is that I sleep through things. Like everything. When he was having issues with his previous girlfreind, she would come and ring our doorbell incessantly until someone answered it, at anytime between 12 (midnight) and about 6 am. I never once heard her ring the bell, or the ensuing arguments that followed. Why..? Who knows! I go to bed early and could happily get up late almost every day. I move around a fair amount, cycling to work, and going for runs in the evening, but they don't leave me feeling particularly drained.

Anybody know whats going on?!

Traditions

My group of friends has a few kind of "traditions" that they (and I) have to adhere to. Probably the most monitored, and most laughed at by people who don't know us is on Boxing day each year (we even had a group of complete strangers video us for youtube one year!).

Locally each year there is a group of people who run into the sea on Christmas day. Unfortunately all of my friend group has better things to be doing on Christmas day. But, strangely we all seem to have Boxing day free each year and so we do it then instead.


This last year, on Boxing day, we jumped into Jules' car and blasted to the local beach. Where there was no parking, so we went to the next beach, where there was some parking. We got out of the car and started to strip off. My Dad and his girlfriend had come to take pictures of us being silly (a habit I feel sure they will get over soon) and then we ran into the sea.

It was really chuffin cold! We have done this for a couple of years now, and this was the coldest by quite a way! It made my feet feel like all my toes were broken (thankfully they were not). And the waves! The waves were immense! And so cold. We could only stay in for about 5 minutes, where we managed almost 35 last year. I hope we last a bit longer next year.

I guess its quite odd how these kind of things get started, I think this happened as a bit of a joke dare that then ended up with the old "I will if you will", and as most people will tell you, when you get that between two men of any age, you know they both will. Just to try and outdo the other. I wonder if that is how all traditions get started....

Riding bikes

The grind of gears,
Music to my ears,
Time in the wood,
Its all good,
Pushing pedals,
Or winning medals,
Riding the bike,
Is what we like.

Rules Of The Road

You may or may not have noticed that I am a cyclist. I am in fact such a cyclist that I sold my car. As such I use my bicycles to carry myself and sometimes other things to and from places. I cycle on the road and on cycle paths. On shared use paths and bridleways. I do not cycle on footpaths or skip red lights. I use lights when I ride at night, and wear a bright item of clothing if it is dark or foggy. Personally I think of these things as the standard things a cyclist should be doing. Every day I see people riding without lights, and skipping red lights and riding down the pavement, and it makes me more than a little angry. The thing is, the cyclists that do that then stare in wonder and amazement when it causes a problem. Car drivers are (generally) quite aggressive towards cyclists. I think this needs change on both parts, not just the car drivers. The car drivers need to know that in fact they don't pay road tax just like cyclists (it is in fact paid for out of your council tax), and that what they actually pay is motor vehicle tax. For their motor vehicle (anyone else seeing a link here?). But cyclists too need to buck up their ideas and realise that motorists will never take us seriously until we play by their rules. So no hopping red lights, no riding on the pavement (ok, thats a gripe from pedestrians but we shant worry about that), and no riding at night without lights. If we do this and so much more there can be change, but like so many things, it does need a small amount of pride swallowed on both sides.

Tats

In my flat there is a tattoo machine. I am assuming that not everyone has a tattoo machine in their house, but there you go. I cannot draw, and for that very reason I would advise you not to let me anywhere near your body with a tattoo machine. However, my friend Lori is a very good artist, with a passion for tattooing. And although I have no tattoos, my flatmate Luke does. And he now has some by Lori. I have even been lucky enough to see tattooing while it happens. This is very interesting. I tried to take some pictures of it, because I enjoy taking pictures of things you don’t see every day. And even with a tattoo machine in my flat I don’t see that every day. The lighting was odd as it was dark outside, and we had all the lamps on in our front room. Luke pulled some fantastic faces while being tattooed. You could really see the pain in his eyes, and the scrunch of his face as Lori scratched the ink into his back. She was working to the pump of the Foo Fighters while he was holding his breath and grunting in pain with equal measure. If you shut your eyes it was almost like the noise of a rock concert where the entire crowd is unsure whether to stand in awe, or grunt and headbang, and yet they manage to all match each other in time perfectly. Lori worked quickly, punching the ink into Luke’s back with the humming tattoo machine. After a short time the purple anodised grip of the tattoo gun became tainted with both red blood and black ink. As the picture took shape on his back, the pictures I wasn’t supposed to be taking with my camera took shape too. I decided to use a long exposure to allow for the low light of the flat, and see what happened. A side effect of that that I am very happy with is that you can see how fast Lori was working, as she is a blur in the frame where Luke is a solid figure. This is one of my favourite pictures I have ever taken. Because it shows something unusual, because it has a subtle range of colour, because it shows two good friends, and mostly, because it was nothing like I imagined before I pressed the shutter.

Snow

In my childhood (0-18) I only remember it snowing properly once. You know the type of thing, when the snow settles..? That’s properly snowing in my book. I only remember this happening once. It was before I started school. I think my brother was born, so between the age of 2 and 4. Let’s say 3. It was a magnificent time. It was around Christmas, I remember watching the snow fall from inside our front room, with the Christmas tree next to me. And the log fire burning in the hearth. I remember our dog too. Sharna. A large Alsatian. She watched it with me.
I remember my Mam taking me into the back garden and letting me walk in the snow while she held my hand. She had to hold my hand because there was a wall and a drop on one side of the garden. Not that Sharna would let me fall. She always walked between me and the wall anyway. Mam was just paranoid. I was wearing an all in one, in baby blue. Slightly faded. I wasn’t the original owner. And a pair of wellies with a drawstring top and sheepskin inside. Very warm. With wool socks my Great Grandmother had knitted for me. They were red and blue. I remember leaving footprints in the snow in the garden, and then the snow falling so quickly that they are gone by the time that I have done a lap of the garden and looked at the shed with Mam. I remember Sharna walking around with us, and not letting me move more than two steps from Mam at any point. She knew my sense of adventure then and wouldn’t let me push my luck too far. She knew...

Winter Rides

Wet and mud,
Sweat and blood,
All part of the winter ride,
That place filled with macho pride

Pain hurts, but sometimes it a good thing..?

“Are you afraid of a little pain..?” I was asked one day while pondering whether or not to do something stupid.
“Of course I’m afraid of pain. Pain hurts!”
This caused a slightly confused laugh at the time, but now I realise that is not technically true. Well, not to me at least...
You see, to me pain is sometimes a useful tool. I use it to remember, to draw away from the anger of the day, and to give me the energy to push forward. For instance, I have several piercings. I got each one to remind me of something different from parts of my life. If I have a bad day, I will jump on my bike, or go for a run, and push myself so hard it hurts. And after it feels better. And from that I get the energy to push forward.
What I am trying to say is that sometimes you need the pain there to remind you that you are real. Not all the time, I’m not some sort of sadist weirdy. Just enough to make the lack of pain seem nicer. Just enough to remind you that the normal “aches and pains” are in-fact not painful at all, just a sign you need to move more. After a bit of pain, everything seems nicer for a short while, doesn’t it? I’m sure it does. Next time you are out for a ride, just push that little bit harder and see what happens.

Winter Is here

The winter is here, and its all getting cold.

Better stay in, especially the old.

Snow white, fluffy and soft.

Reminds you of times spent in the hay loft.

Grip under tyres, there is scant chance.

Pedalling in winter, a jolly cold dance!

The Pedal To Sainsburies in -8 degrees C.

The Night air quickly closes in, it knows my warmth and wants it for itself. I pedal faster, nearly to the beat of drums ringing in my now burning ears. Soon my eyes sting, and my toes and fingers feel the creep of the Nights silvery breath. I take my turn. Pulling my buff over my face. I breath deeply, warming my nose and lips. But too soon condensation forms and the the misery finds a subtle way in again. Under street lights I zoom, until the road runs out and the toepath is all that remains. Without the streetlights the world seems weird. Strangely the canal is offering no reflection. Suddenly my cold slowed mind clicks into gear and I realize it is frozen. At the same time I realize that my body isn't quite recovered from the weeks illness. Frost starts to form on my beard under my buff. This is getting serious. The moon is full and offers a smooth beauty under a mask of horror. With the surprising grip I dig deeper and push harder. The dull ache in my feet breaking into a sharp needle like jab everytime I push. At last streetlights. I'm almost there. I scrunch up my hands and feet, trying too late to work life into them. I arrive, dismount, and head in search of heat.

What a lovely night for a ride!