Being forced to stay off the bike has given me cause to ponder the meaning of detraining.
‘Treadly and Me’ spluttered inauspiciously into life on 1 January 2006. So as the year draws to a close, this provides me with the excuse to ruminate on what was and what may be…in this little corner of the web, at least.
This time it was going to be different. After the last debacle there’d be no rushing to get back on the bike…
The road to recovery is littered with tired cliches…
The self-diagnosis continues, as I head for the “self-help” shelves in search of knee pain remedies.
I may have injured myself by having my seat too low. Could 2cm make that much difference? Over several weeks, yeah maybe.
Being marred by injury is all the worse when you don’t know how or why it happened.
In August I made an entry called How To Steal a Bike, prompted by a couple of films on the web showing people ignoring someone stealing a bike right before their eyes. In the discussion that followed I suggested a possible approach for witnesses to a suspected bike theft: simply shouting Oi, that’s my bike
might be enough to see-off a thief. However for reasons of personal safety I didn’t think this was an entirely foolproof method.
Comments on the topic went quiet until last week when Paul from Adelaide recounted his largely unsuccessful attempt to use this approach. Feeling that the story shouldn’t be hidden away in the comments, I’ve asked Paul to go back and start at the beginning for this guest entry. You may not agree with what Paul did—you may even think him reckless or that he brought a bad outcome on himself. Maybe. Regardless it stands as a warning: your bike is replaceable, your life is not.
–T&M.
In the USA, some school districts are banning playground equipment, games of tag, and even running in the playground. What the …?