We videoed his death

Friday night was Man Night. This is a frequent (if not regular) feature of Nelmes World. V is an honorary man, and looks unnervingly convincing in a beard, but this was an unusually restrained affair with no false beards and no pipe smoking. Humpty and the Punisher (which sounds like a film title) were on good form and I managed a late night without getting roaring drunk.

I had to drag myself out of the Humphrey’s spare room at the cracko to meet Julia, Ruth and Kevin near Stantonbury track. Kevin and his Garmin watch took us on a 20mile MK odyssey. Half the time I wasn’t even sure what direction we were heading in. More importantly however I felt really strong throughout most of it. I could certainly have pushed on an extra 5 or 10 seconds per mile faster if necessary. I was pleased to discover that my foot held up ok under the pressure and that jelly babies worked well as a fuel source for the 10-20mile segment.

After a judicious helping of sleep and carbohydrates tackling my increasingly overgrown garden seemed like a good idea and, with some help, I got it into much better shape. For the first time I have started to move plants while they are at their peak. This seems to be a much better way of sculpting the look of the thing.

While tidying up the garden I saw the most disturbing thing. An Orb Web Garden Spider was sitting in the middle of her web wrapping some prey when a smaller spider approached the edge of the web. I recognised that this was a male of the same species. He tapped on the web and edged closer. She moved towards him and he towards her.

When they came close together he began to tap and stroke her forelimbs. He clearly recognised the peril of his position (lady spiders being notoriously grumpy) and scurried back to his corner on several occasions. Finally, they came to what looked like a fond embrace. Unfortunately she had other idea and sank her fangs into him. In a moment he was bound in silk and hanging like a ham from her web. It was horrible to watch. I actually videoed the poor lad’s death. I’ll post it if I can get Quicktime file to upload.

Tour of Britain Stage One

My thighs felt like beached seals this morning but I dragged myself out of bed to go to London. Nina, Julia and I got to town in time to walk from Embankment station, along the river, through the City and up to Tower Hill. This probably constituted about two thirds of the course of Stage One. There was nothing technical for the riders save for the very tight bend on Tower Hill itself. There was enough clowning and quite enough sausage frying to amuse both the young and the fat in the area around The Tower and the tight bend provided a little excitement on lap one as one of the neutral support vehicles almost failed to make the turn.

Fortunately we were spared the sight of a lot of squashed spectators as one of the Ploughman riders led the peleton through the first lap. By lap three or four we had made our way to the sickeningly vertiginous KoM climb. Standing on the wall of a (rather ill kept) flower bed gave us a great view of the a leading group which was beginning to get away from the peleton.

Over the next few laps (I lost count) the gap went out to at least 50 seconds and for a while I thought the bunch may not catch them. Sadly the break (which initially contained riders from seven teams) began to splinter and the bunch cut the margin to around ten seconds by lap eight.

The last rider to be swallowed up was Danielo Di Luca (LPR Brakes) on the latter part of lap eight. By this time the CSC train looked pretty much unstoppable driving the peleton from the front with at least five riders. In the end however it seems that wiley old stager and (alleged) doper Alessandro Petacchi used his awesome sprinting power to decisive effect. Britain's all purpose cycling genius Rob Hayles was second for team GB and Magnus Backstedt got third for Garmin.

Really good day out topped off with sherry on Villers Street, art at the NPG and a good curry near Euston.

Amsterdam marathon preparation: part two

I did a simulated Amsterdam run this afternoon. I thought that running along the canal between Bletch and Leighton B would a rough facsimile of Amsterdam being flat, slightly cobbled and proximate to water. It was but it was relentless. The lack of company; cheering dope befuddled crowds and people dressed as gonks made it quite punishing. Sixteen miles is a long way with only the occasional heron kwarrk, puppy attack and swan blockage to keep one's mind occupied.

I managed what could be thought of as eight minute miles (3:30 marathon pace) but only if you sort of squint at it through half closed eyes. I was actually 0.19miles (or about 2 mins over all) off and I did have to stop for a coke and a packet of Nobbys Nuts lest I pass out.

Tomorrow (pardon me while I wee myself with excitement) is the start of The Tour of Britain in London. C'mon you Wiggins!