I have a problem.
I seem to have an inbuilt need to destroy myself.
Whether it's boot-camps or competing in fun runs and mountain bike races, there always seems to be a point where I'll decide I can do more. It's a point where I know that although I can't ever win a race, I can win a bit of it ... so I'll utterly destroy myself doing so.
I'll sprint up a hill like I was in a hundred meter race, not a 10km one ... and I'll win. In my own way I'll be shouting out to the world "I can always do more, I can always find more, I can always be more".
Then I'll usually collapse into a heap and die in my own private world of pain.
I'm a bit worried that this may have been my week of destroying myself in the commuter challenge, which means next week ... I crash in a heap and die.
But that's next week.
This week the news is that it's school holidays, which means no kiddy pick ups, and so I didn't just manage my target of three commutes, I didn't even chalk up four commutes ... nope, I chalked up five commutes in a row, the clean sweep, and I even commuted home the long way on Friday night (via Cambridge and Acton) in order to chalk up two hundred commuting kilometres in the week ...
I also like the fact that I spent nearly 10 hours on the bike this week just commuting.
What did I say about destroying myself?
The week only had a few highlights worth mentioning.
I only had one motorist wind down their window and scream "get off the f*cking road you c*nt" and no really close encounters ... which was much more pleasant than usual.
Balancing that on Tuesday I let off my own bit of vitriol as I passed a group of cyclists riding across the bridge well after dark with no lights and no helmets. The kind of cyclists which give the rest of us a bad name. So I let them know my thoughts about that.
Another cold snap of weather had me trying out my super-duper warm lobster gloves on Thursday ...
but unfortunately, although toasty warm, you try using a flight deck gear switching system on a road bike with those big boys on. Yep, they were thrown back into the storage box on Thursday night.
But probably the biggest excitement of the week was this ...
This, if you haven't already figured it out, is what Roche's Beach Road looks from a bike like at 37km/hr when your front bike suddenly blacks out.
Note to self: that clever idea of only pushing the power cable together lightly so it's easier to unplug and recharge each night doesn't seem so smart when it unplugs itself at 37km/hr at night.
The end result of my mega-week is of course a weekly win to me.
It also means that I jump to 15 on the point score while winter remains on a pitiful, embarrassing 10 points, and who cares about the medium race difficulty unless ... well I crash and die next week as predicted.