Cycling

Cycling to work really is pretty amazing. It's taken me two days to get the timing right, and I'm still drying myself after a shower with a t shirt as well as drying my hair under the hand blower, but put these minor details aside and I'm doing it, I'm cycling to work and I'm loving it.

Waking up at 6:30am is pretty tough, fighting the inner demons that are telling you your warm car with heated leather seats will be so much better for your arse is a true test of character. As if simply getting out of bed wasn't tough enough, but to jump on a mountain bike and cycle ten miles to work...preposterous! Once I'm up and riding though, things are totally different,  the wheels are turning, the legs are working and the cobwebs are most certainly blown away. The heart starts to beat hard, blood is flowing into every part of my body, and it reminds me that I am alive, it's invigorating. Though not long into my journey that I'm feeling alive, I find my self fighting to stay alive all together.

Cars are heading towards me in all different directions, and when I finally hit the cycle path I find myself sharing it with other cyclists, pedestrians and various other animals from Pugs to Horses. Soon I am whizzing past everyone, angry motorists look on in disgust "How dare he overtake me on his pesky bicycle" - I can just imagine them thinking that whilst they are seething in their half mile long traffic jam. I drop a gear and pedal hard; I've got to look quick, I've got to look like I'm putting some serious effort in here!

I pull into work, a glorious sight, searching the car park in hope of someone spotting me and acknowledging my efforts, no one is looking on but this is a silent victory for me, I feel great. I walk into work proud of my efforts, sweaty, muddy, I look an absolute state amongst the suits but head held high with pride.

I packed a few shirts, boxers and socks in my bag so I wouldn't have to keep brining my bag, but I completely forgot to pack a towel! I realise this as I'm stood stark bollock naked in the changing rooms, no going back now. I strategically place a t shirt by the shower, this will be my make shift towel! From a triumphant high to an all time low...I'm completely naked and hunched under the hand drier trying to dry my hair with a t shirt askew on my back. I suddenly feel like a homeless person having a freshen up in public toilets.

This is the thing about cycling to work, you feel righteous and above everyone who has driven to work, yet at the same time you feel like a tramp living out of a plastic bag. At least my dignity is reformed when I don my shirt, trousers, shoes and tie and head up stairs to work. My colleagues are none the wiser, but inside I'm ecstatic with the days' events...and it's only eight in the morning!

So what are you waiting for...

Happy Birthday Dad.

I miss you more now than I ever have. Happy Birthday Dad.

MMXII

Quite a lot happened in 2012, yet at the same time it feels like quite a lot, well, didn't.

Let's see, I had more surgery on my shoulder, finally got back into riding bikes with a great deal of self control exercised, went through about five different jobs, bought a car, had a car crash, got a tattoo, made my first ever proper cake, told some secrets, spread dads ashes, had a photo shoot, swam in a freezing cold lake, started trampolining, bacame a pedi cab driver for a few months, oh and started 'dating', 'going out with' Natalie Walker; most certainly the best part of 2012.

There is still a niggling that 2012 was a year of preparation  I guess because I spent yet another four months rehabilitating my shoulder just so I could work, but also, I don't know, there was nothing in terms of holiday to look forward to or, actually I know what it was, it was the shit weather we had. Yet the more I think about 2012 the more memories I have of fun things, they all seem tainted though, but brilliant none the less.

The first part of the year really was a bit of a non starter. Another shit January morning the loss of Dad, followed by shoulder surgery and a frustrating few months at home, the 'summer' provided endless rain and back to back days of long hours in the van just to climb out of a bottomless pit of debt. That was until Nat and I properly started seeing each other, then everything suddenly became worth while and life had meaning again. Experiences are ten fold better when shared, and I am so great full I have such an amazing, caring, fun and beautiful girlfriend to share things with. So maybe then, 2012's purpose was simply a build up to 2013, which I think is going to be the best year in well, years.

This blog is now in it's forth year I believe, and it really is incomprehensible just how much bad luck I have had, and only believable when you flick back through the archive, but believe me it's all there, a life time of bad luck in a mere four years. But times are changing. Enough of talk before I jinx myself into more bad luck. Have a look at my highlights...

Goodbye 2012, you have served your purpose, Happy 2013.

Remembering my best friend and inspiration for everything in life was first on my list.

Freedom at last.

Sums up the trip with Foz.

Whitby at its greatest.

Shiny happy.

Go on number 1! Taken by Joe Horton.

Tour.

Lost...in a moment...somewhere.

Comeback.

A special day.

A resting place at last.

The Lakes.

Laughs.

Eye opener.

In deep.

Purpose.

Thanks everyone.

The Nike Mogan.

These are my 2007/8 Nike 6.0 Zoom Mogan Trainers (correct me if I'm wrong). If these trainers could talk as well as walk, Christ they would have some tails to tell. They've been through shit, sick and squalor, through to posh events, festivals, sunnier climates, and to be honest just about everything a year in Great Britain can offer. They've been flooded and dried and still held fast in the floods of 2008, they stood tall at Glastonbury 2011 despite raging winds and sideways rain, they've even taken me to victory in a local Mountain Bike series in the south west. These are just the trying times, for the duration of their life, these trainers have been 'fit and forget'. I put them on, and they do their job so well that it's not until they are kicked off at the very doorstep you see above that I actually stand back and appreciate all that this shoe has done for my feet. 

I do not live life in half measures and as a result these trainers have had one almighty test, and they have won the test of time. After five years of constant abuse from riding bmx, mtb, being filled and drained with mud, dust, rain, snow and sand, these trainers have been utterly faultless. Only now are they showing signs of their demise...a small hole on the inside of the right shoe, nothing major, but sadly in a position that means water seepage is inevitable, and my pet hate is wet socks.

Stefan Janoski Low Premium

Not surprising then, that I am really struggling to find a suitable trainer to replace this triumphant pair, I am five years older than when I bought these trainers and my tastes have changed, I want something a bit smarter, yet I still want the comfort of knowing that even on the rainiest of days, I can slip on a pair of trainers and not have wet feet all day. The 'Stefan Janoski Low Premium' is more the sort of trainer I want, but I can't help but feel it will not stand as much abuse as I am lightly to give it. The 'Dunk High' is fantastic trainer but slightly too big, which leaves something along the lines of the 'AF1 Downtown' or a more obvious replacement, the 'Mogan Low 3' 

Nike Mogan Low 3 ID

If I've had it's predecessor for time, then surely this modern day version will last me equally as long. 

Surely it's a no brainer? 

Either way, I wanted to pay homage to what can only be described as a fantastic trainer, a relentless mud runner, a clear leader, and a reliable friend of my feet that have seen me through thick and thin and never faltered. I just hope whatever pair of Nikes I buy next will be just asreliable for the next five years of my life. 

Cheers Nike.

Voice.

Funny how dreams can go from being there and existing but not influencing, to suddenly smacking you in the face.

Last night I received a text from my Dad, (in my dream obviously, I'm not going mad) I can see that text so clearly, I can even see every Capital letter and comma. 

He sent me a text saying he was ok, everything was fine and he would be coming out of hospital soon as he had got his VOICE BACK. 

I was so happy in that moment, so so happy and excited to see him. Though, within seconds of waking up, I was crushed, crushed by the ruthlessness of reality. Never have I gone from being so ecstatically happy to so...I've just spend two minutes staring at the screen trying to explain it with words, and I just can't. 

I love you dad. I can't express how much I miss you every single day. 

Now you have your voice back maybe you will talk to me in my dreams.

Eye

Eyes really are very under-rated.

The Job

The job

So I've been at work for three weeks now, or maybe four I'm not sure. But its going ok, up and down, like a yo yo. It is kinda cool what I do I guess, and the more I think about it the more I think 'shit am I really carrying this much responsibility, do these people really trust me to be doing this?'
Basically I am fully responsible for insuring that three mills have enough wheat, oats,maize,peas,barley on a day to day basis to make enough bread and other products. That's just insane to let someone as nonchalant as me carry out such a heavy task. Today I was controlling all of the product out of a mill in Manchester, product that feeds cattle, that allows them to grow, and be milked and killed for tasty steak, me...in control of that!

It does get a bit repetitive I must admit, playing the same mill, the same calls and scoring the same deals with regular hauliers, but there are some laughs to be had. For example one haulier phoned today,
"frontier jack speaking"
"jack is Alicia there?"
"She is, shall I put you across?"

He simply replies,

"is she fit jack?"

Hahaha and thats it, my afternoon has been made, me and Jim end up talking for about fifteen minutes after Alicia, shes sat within ear shot but is none the wiser.
"Well would you?" He continues,
"Urrrh"
"That's a no then!" We're both in hysterics.

"How many pints would it take? Four? I always flirt with her on the phone, I bet shes fat, is she fat jack? This always happens, I always flirt with the fattys"

Hes laughing for England and so am i. I lean back in my chair in hysterics and start to feel good, I'm in an office chatting, laughing, but doing business all at the same. Its clicked.

"Whats that saying, flirt on the phone add 2 stone" hes roaring down the phone...so am I.
I don't care what people in the office think, and Ive been to his site in Worcester, i know he is just sat in a portacabin next to a calender of lorries, hugging a mini electric heater, but we are both on fire.

"Always the fattys, well you better put me across jack"

Moments like that make the job so much more worthwhile.yo It wasn't just Jim either. Ive have two shit days, and today in stead of getting wound up, i just went with it, just chatted to everyone properly, no business talk...but it was somehow, and it worked.

"Hows your week been Dave?" I ask,
i know the answer but it will start a fun conversation...

"Fucking shit" he replies.

Brilliant, it works you know, I'm letting them know that I am on their side, I empathize with them, listen to them and look out for them. I hook them up with work and as a result they keep saying less and will hopefully scratch my back when I get in a tricky situation.

I'm not sure this is something I want to do long term, but the people are great, and sure I'm rough around the edges, when have I not been, but I'm doing ok. Ive been thrown in the pool, and I'm in class two, swimming...just.