To jog or to blog, that is the question....

More bad fortune with my excercise programme. It's as if him upstairs is saying to me "You're too old, stick to blogging and flogging books!" Not that he probably would put it quite like that. I got all keyed up and ready to go out for my Sunday morning spurt of energy release. Cycling this time as my left calf muscle is still twinging from last week's run (see earlier if you must.) Sports clothing on, bag with drink, puncture repair kit, a little sustanance packed. Cycling gloves on, helmet clicked on (for a change) bike tyres pumped up, check that newly trued wheel is spinning ok. Right, all ready to roll down that Quarry Hill down to the town and on to the Penshurst trail with an hour there and back to beat (ok an hour and a half then!) I got as far as St. Stephen's Church at the bottom of the hill (so not very far at all) before I heard a very strange clicking noise coming from the back tyre, thought it was my imagination for a few seconds; then after a few more there could be no doubt.... a full and proper blow out and I nearly went tumbling off as the back wheel lost control outside Tonbridge Glass and Mirror Centre (just managed to catch a glimpse of my self still looking cool in one of the fancy mirrors in their window (not really!) Just about managed to stay on as I rapidly ground to a halt. So that was the end of my excercise for the day; I felt cheated, I remembered a couple of rare occasions in my rugby playing days when my team were all greased up, warmed up and ready to go when the news suddenly came that the other team would not be showing up. The adreneline was flowing but with no outlet. If I wasn't so determined to get fit again, especially with it being Mothers Day, I might have given up there and then and hung up my cyling helmet for good. To cut a long story short, I trundled, inelligantly, wheeling my bike back up the hill; I took off the knackered wheel, inspected it, located puncture, went to halfords, bought new tyre and inner tube, which were both necessary, went home, fitted them, and arrived in Penshurst 28 minutes and 14 seconds later (my stopwatch telling me that I was well on schedule for the hour target I'd set myself.) So there's a story with a happy ending and it just goes to show if we try, try and try again we can succeed with a positive mental attitude "Now he's really gone off on one" I hear you all say (I think I might become a sport's motivational coach!)