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Friday, 3 February 2012

Pride Comes Before A Fall

So the Uberblog crops up two days on the trot. Today, after bunking off work early and officially. I headed to chez miller where Duff was tucking into the cyclists lunch of a tin of meatballs and a whole baguette of garlic bread. Classic sportsman food. I have seen him eat worse. In fact I've eaten worse when I had tinned haggis sandwiches in 2008 (I was new to living alone) just to make that one worse the haggis claimed to be 39 per cent lamb lung. Unbelievably I went back for seconds. However, I'm digressing. Back to the Uberblog.

We set off today with a new addition - Rusty "faster further" Hamilton as he will undoubtedly be dubbed. See below:

Happy days at Castle Semple. 

This was about 4 miles in and we'd been bloody tanking it at about 15 miles an hour. This is compared to myself and Duffs usual driving miss daisy pace of about 9mph. To be fair to Duff I never new he had it in him. After Saturdays 21 miler 5 asides and the previous days surprising 18 miles. We were powering along.

Further we ventured leaving tracks of fire like the docs DeLorean. 
This brought a much needed rest at Morrisons of Jtown where I popped in for some drinks and doughnuts:
On the right its a doughnut eating a doughnut. Ahaha. Doughnut cannibalism. Surely a new term for the urban dictionary. 
We did stop briefly to cool our jets at what has proudly become Scotland's worst town thanks to the recent Carbunkle Award given to Linwood. I feel Mr Carbunkle couldn't have witnessed this magnificent broken pencil style structure on this gloriously crisp winters day. It must have been built recently due to the lack of fire damage.

You may notice my stupid face. I did this to complement Duff's stupid face. Unbelievably for the first time ever in an uberchallenge pic he looked normal. Well by normal I mean "normal".

Here we are at Canal Street station or dog poo flank as this stretch should surely be known. Duff made the decision to refer to Paisley as the Bin from now on.

Apart from my vitriol strewn words over the last couple of paragraphs mainly aimed at Paisley and its suburb of Linwood. I was actually loving my day. The handlebar radio was blaring out reggae's finest. Ya erein me mon! Ya guan down Paisley ya av real irie time. That may not have made sense. I and I is not fluent in da reggae lingo.

Ah look at that nonchalant (try reading that word again in a french accent. If you cant do french just try an outrageous one) pose. I think I was thinking hmmm look at me a tall strong cyclist conquering mile after mile like o'bree and hoy before me. Whatever next Everest? hmmmm? I'm great arent I. Or possibly I just look like a ginormous bender either way I was loving life.

Unfortunately just around the corner I felt the first saddle related friction burn. This will surely only get worse.

Ah the cycle was so great we cycled into the dark. Please note the excellent illumination of the jerkin.

As we powered home at rapid speeds racking up an impressive 28.5 miles in the process. I arrived at the car to turn round and see Duff walking. He'd decked it again. He looked sore. He should've strode home ten foot tall listening to the chink of his newly aquired steely buttocks after such a great cycle. However, from purely a selfish point of view. If only I'd seen him it would have at least made me laugh. I think someone must have swapped the Duff I know as on the way home his spirits were still high as we talked about the uberchallenging future. Maybe tinned meatballs make you tough. Tell your kids.

So there we have it an aptly titled blog. Tune in soon my favourite blog readers and word to your mother. Keep on keeping on.

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