Although I get up at six, I mount the vacuum cleaner instead of the bike. Yesterday’s slog makes the Wertheim far more attractive.
Most of my life I’ve distracted myself with things other than those most worthy, most pressing, most germane. Not that there is anything unworthy about vacuuming, or urgent, when a fortnight’s JRT sheddings carpet the polished floorboards.
The vacuuming is distracting me from today's ride, and from walking the dog. During the vacuuming I distract myself with moving furniture, a favourite distraction, doing two loads of washing, sweeping the backyard, and eating breakfast. At ten the vacuuming is not yet half done but I’ve rearranged the kitchen and all the furniture in the front bedroom.
I enjoy housework: have done all my life. This is something no self-respecting male is allowed to admit. I am a self-respecting male but I don’t give a flying fuck. I like a clean and functional house. Some people call me obsessive: I think they’re slipshod and unmindful.
My house is welcoming: my regular house-sitter when I have to travel tells me that everything is exactly where she would expect to find it.
The diurnal rhythms of rising early, unfolding oneself quietly into the day, whatever the weather, walking the dog, cooking porridge, watering pots, sweeping the yard, airing the bedroom, and distracting oneself with domestic minutiae affords more satisfaction than the paid work I do.
So it’s after four in the afternoon when the Cervélo finally leads me out the door. And what an utterly forgettable ride it is: 42.25kms at an unknown average because I forget to reset the computer. Some days and some rides are hard to describe. This one is simply uphill into the wind, a 30 kph southerly that constantly counters any momentum my legs can generate.
Yes, I’m still not well. And yes, I need inspiration. So I pull The Lance Armstrong performance program off the shelf where the good bike books live. It promises seven weeks to the perfect ride. I’ve read it before, but need to read it again.
Lance always delivers, doesn’t he?
I enjoy housework too, always have, maybe that's why Lib has put up with me for 30 years. It's frustrating that I don't have more time for it. Maybe one day. Being home attending to domestics is a joy for me. Cooking washing,sweeping,dishes, yes. Vaccuuming's a bit noisy though.I'm not a clean freak or anything but I like things in their place so that I can find them in the dark if necessary. I like orderliness and can get a bit fragile when I lose it. I hate wandering round looking for things.
ReplyDeletePump those legs.