Frenzy by Mark King
I walked to the gym this morning at 06.45 in perfect weather ready for my 7am spinning class, and the return journey was even more enjoyable now I had finished my 45 minutes of cycling sweat, interspersed with a lot of huffing and puffing.
Without a car the children cycled to school with the wife, and as it was my son's sport day I decided to follow them half an hour later once I had finished breakfast, plus also take the chance to cool down a bit.
After my toast and tea I opened the garage, and looked at my bike nestled in the corner were it has been hibernating since last summer. I new I should have checked all was well with it the night before when I had more time, but I was expecting, or I should say hoping all would be O.K.
I was wrong. Both tyres were flat and needed pumping up. I had fifteen minuted left to get ready, fix the bike, and complete all the other small tasks needed doing, like closing all the windows and doors, before I had to leave in time to make my son's sports day.
No problem I thought! Well it took me five minutes of vigorous thrusting while on my hands and knees with an old fashion hand pump before I realised no air was going into the tube. After a couple more minutes of trial and error I found out you needed to screw then pull up the end of the the little thing that sticks out of the tube.
I was knacked and the pool of sweat around my knees was increasing in size with the ever increasing heat outside. Another five minutes of very exhausting, frustrating and pointless, thrusting only confirmed that the tyre would still not inflate. I had been using a wrong adaptor head! With two minutes left I rushed with the panic increasing as fast as my over-heating body to shut all the windows, get changed, and lock all the doors before returning to give the bike a third go.
This time I pumped, and I pumped, and I pumped, and if you could win a medal in the Olympics for the fastest pumping action I would have won a gold medal.
I could give no more, my time had run out, and so had my energy, and both the tyres were only half inflated, but I had no choice, I now had to get on it, and pedal to my children's school as if I was sprinting for the winners line at the Tour De France. It was a frantic frenzy by Mark King believe me.
I made it with a minute to spare. I spent the next thirty minutes baking in the open as the sun beat down on the hottest of the day so far, but I enjoyed every moment.
Then there was the cycle home! By the time I walked through the front door I was ready for a lay down, and it was only 10.30!
Is there a moral to this story? Well I don't think so, but if you know better then feel free to let me know at the email address above.