Taxi, or Not Taxi

Posted: October 17, 2013 in Health, Rant, Travel
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So, there I am; standing in the main entrance to Guys Hospital just before 8pm wanting to get to Paddington to catch the 20:35 so that I can get Young Nick back home to the care of his Mummy. On the main desk is a box of cards for a trusted taxi service. I phone them, the tell wait there and a taxi will arrive. So, I stand there, young Nick sitting looking as though he’d been through the wars, and in a way, he had. Then, in come a nice jolly caribbean man on the phone trying to get hold of his fare but saying that the number he’d been given was wrong. Quickly, his Podgeness sees the problem and make the nice caribbean man aware of the need to get to Paddington before the train leaves. If we missed the train, the next one was the little baby trains which ‘aint much better than cattle trucks.

Don’t worry says the nice caribbean man, I’ll get you there in plenty of time. So we bundle into his car and off we go.

First clue to something not quire right was when he turned south instead of heading over the river and north towards Paddington.

Second clue was when the trusted taxi company phoned to say that my taxi was outside. No, I said, I’m in your taxi now.

Third clue, long pause at the end of the line.

Fourth clue; what car are you in and what the drivers number. I couldn’t answer either.

Conclusion: the nice little caribbean man wasn’t a taxi driver, nor was his car a taxi.

There then followed 10 minutes of silence as we drifted, eventually, north and past Buckingham Palace and on towards Paddington.

Did we make it? Yes, we did. Did we get ripped off? Well no, actually we didn’t. The fare was less that it would have been. Was the nice caribbean man a nice caribbean man? Well, yes, he was. But he was also a scoundrel.

This time, we got away with it but believe me, there won’t be a next time. I was caught out and I couldn’t believe i’d let it happen.

His Podgeness was a dickhead.

This post has no point, just a replay of something of nothing….

Milk: Good Food? Bad Food?

Posted: October 13, 2013 in COPD, Cycling, Health, training
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I’ve recently been talking with a respiratory friend of mine who says that milk is bad, really bad. In fact all dairy products are bad. [This conversation was brought about by my recent bout of chest infections and my sulky reference to how COPD sucks :-)] She told me that I must give up all dairy products if I wanted to help my lungs and get back out cycling. Now, my problem is that I like my breakfast cereals and they need milk; I like coffee and that ‘needs’ milk; I like tea, custard, chocolate, cream cakes, hot chocolate with whipped cream; I like it all but it was not being able to have my the breakfast cereals that really hurt me. It was suggested that I tried Soya Milk: Well, I’ve tried that stuff before and I’m not trying it again. So, in desperation I asked my friendly respiratory lady if using lactose free milk will be a good alternative. Her response was very sternly thus:

Lactose free is just as bad, sadly – it’s the cows’ milk protein as well as the lactose that causes many problems.

Lactose is a milk sugar that we don’t produce an enzyme for after infancy (lactase). No other mammal drinks the milk of another species – they are not designed to and neither are we.

Cows’ milk protein contains bovine lactalbumin a and b that we also don’t have enzymes for and cannot digest. What happens is that it leaks through, undigested into our bloodstream where it shouldn’t be (because of leaky gut – hence the Saffron* also helps to prevent this) and your bloodstream and immune system treat this protein like an invading bacteria (because it is labelled Cow, not Human) and attacks it, usually having been primed to do so in infancy.

Giving babies (especially our generation, but it is still bad today) cow based formula sensitises us to CMP when our guts are immature. Babies’ gut walls are designed to be leaky, to let all those good white blood cells and antibodies through into the bloodstream, that we should have been getting from our mummies. Giving cow, soya, wheat (rusks), corn based foods younger than 4-6 months sensitises babies to these foods; gives them food and other allergies and makes them ill because their immune systems start fighting them instead of viruses and bacteria.

Hence the reason why I am also a qualified Lactation Consultant in my spare time, helping women who are struggling to bre*st feed.

Most of us (around 70%) covertly react to cows’ milk protein, because we were bottle fed or given formula in hospital at a very early stage, even if human-fed the rest of the time.

It is at the root of most of the chronic diseases of the western world; asthma, heart disease, diabetes and cancer.

* I had been previously recommended to drink Saffron Tea

She also told me to breath the fumes of Calvados, and even drink it as well 🙂 as the fumes have been shown to kill off TB Bacteria. I haven’t got TB but I’m more than happy to go with this last one and, given the sternness of the response and my needing to get back on my bike, and breath well of course, I decided to go for it and cut out dairy products. I’ve cut out all milk related products altogether and today is the last day of the first week without milk. How do I feel? Effin Brilliant. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ready to run a marathon, nor am I ready for any significant cycling but after the past 6-weeks I am genuinely feeling so much better.

From a dietary perspective it hasn’t been that much of a challenge although splitting up with breakfast cereals was probably the real wrench. For a few days, I replaced these with sausage and egg rolls (yummy) but this can’t continue so it will be toast & jam from now on and maybe fruit but definitely no milk.

Next week, I shall start out on the turbo trainer (indoor cycling) to start to get my legs moving and stretch my lungs and go from there. I’m not going to rush but I’m still targeting next years the 2014 Remembering D-Day Cycle Challenge.

Another bloody good reason for sorting myself out is that I’ll be 60 next year and I’m not ready to start being old, though the ‘Victor Meldrew’ part of being old does have it’s attractions. 😉

As for COPD, well, it still sucks and I still challenge the diagnosis, even though I know they [the doctors] are probably right.

Must keep pedalling: Must keep pedalling.

2014 – Ride to Remember

Posted: August 29, 2013 in Uncategorized
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So, the planning starts for real. The 2014 ride will be The Ride to Remember. A Ride to Remember for more than one reason; not only will the riders remember the event for many years, but it also afford the opportunity to remember the events of 70 years ago. This is a once in a lifetime ride for 70 riders only. Don’t miss out. Check in as soon as possible: if not sooner.

http://www.wheelsforrotary.com

Doo Daa’s in a Brewery (NOT)

Posted: July 18, 2013 in COPD, Rant, Travel
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So, there I am, sitting in the office melting and finding it difficult to breath [COPD sucks]. I played the sensible option (I thought) and called it a day and headed off early to get an early train.
Arriving at Paddington in good time, I checked the platform app to see that the 16:36 was ready on Platform 3. I got on, having confirmed the stickers in the window that it was actually going to Exeter, via Hungerford, and settled down.
After 10 minutes, everybody gets off. Apparently they’ve changed their mind and my train is now on Platform 4. So now, I have to scrabble my way round, along with the world and his wife to the Correct Train’ – the train on 3 is now going to Swansea.
Again, I settle down and get my breath back having managed to find a seat.
Guess what? This naffing train has broken but they’re trying to fix it.
Guess what? No such luck. They can’t fix it so we now all have to get off and dash to Platform effing 8.
Don’t worry #fgw, I made it. I even managed to get a seat: unlike so many extra passengers who have been shoehorned on the train. ( as the train was still at the station ).
How do I feel? Totally drained and knackered. I’d have been better of staying work and coping with rush hour. #fgw, you really are priceless. And to think, I pay you over £5000 per year for this privilege. Monopolies (that’s what the rail system is) don’t work.

Day 3 – Kidnapped By The Frenchies

Posted: July 16, 2013 in charity, COPD, Cycling, Disaster Recovery, Travel
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Angers was the town in which Matt was to join us. He had left dear old blighty a couple of days earlier as he had decided a 550 mile ride wasn’t taxing enough and opted to head for the Alps to take part in the ‘Etape de Tour’ before taking the train via Geneva and Paris to Angers to reach as us at 22:30, as planned. I wonder if such plans had worked out in the UK and our fantastic rail network. Somehow, I think pushing sand up a drainpipe would be more fruitful.

We had arranged to meet Christian Pinneau along with other cyclists from Ligueil at 12:30 so that we could all ride in ‘en masse’ to a celebratory reception arranged by the twinning committee and others from our twin town. For this reason, we knew we should leave Angers early not only to be sure we weren’t late but also to minimise our exposure to the heat.

As luck would have it, the first half of the route was to take is along the Loire Valley [a route I believe everybody should cycle], past some magnificent chateau’s and some especially nice Caves (wine cellars, where some luverly wines were traded: unfortunately, cycle shirts aren’t designed to carry bottles of wine so we had to pass on so many opportunities. Such a great shame, as just before Saumur, we passed the Ackerman Wine Cellar: if you get the chance, visit it. It is fab.

As we (by now, it was just Charles [65] and I [nearly 60 Sad smile]) made our way east, the creaking in Charles’ Colnago was getting louder and he was down to only four useable gears. A quick inspection revealed that the gear cables had shredded and subsequently shredded. We needed a bike shop, and we found a bike shop with a very, very pretty French Lady who could speak hardly any English. Somehow, us two old deluded Codgers had to charm the nice little French Lady into understanding our needs(!). Eventually after much pointing and gesticulating, she got out her tape measure (!) to measure how much cable we needed and snip, snip, we were done. Strictly speaking, we also needed some nipples to go over the end of the cables but we decided to give that one a miss: tempting though it may have been Smile

After a quick temporary fix and our spares safely in our back pockets, we set off again on to Saumur [missing Ackerman’s] for a quick coffee / beer stop. Using a combination of Garmin Sat Nav and iPhone Maps (which were rubbish) we eventually all met up at a cafe / bar by the river less than 100 yards from a bike shop. As my mechanical skills had been enough to give Charles his gears back though we decided to resist going there to get it fixed properly and just rest up and have a drink before setting off to meet the Ligueil Cycling contingent at the designated picnic stop at Monsoreau just east of Chinon. My estimation was that the average age of the 10 Ligueil cyclists was 50, at least. But, they were often highly proficient cyclists as they led us to the picnic zone at 20+ miles an hour. But wow, it was great with 16 cyclists tearing alongside the Loire with two escort cars and our support van, we must have been (and certainly felt) a magnificent site.

Having made our acquaintance’s and sated our hunger, and thirst, the time came for the last 42 mile ride to Ligueil.

The pace was high, the route was hilly, the wind was unfavourable and there was 42 miles of it. As the French Cyclists surrounding the English cyclists there was this feeling that the English were being tested: tested to the limits so it was good to note the two or three of the Frenchies dropped out the back but nevertheless, the English were surrounded: kidnapped maybe?

Mile after mile, the French surrounded and herded the English, neither sided really understanding each other but united by a common bond of our love for cycling, we all eventually reached the outskirts of Ligueil where we all entered the town, three abreast with the French flanking the English (still making sure we didn’t escape) until we reach Centre Ville and then the Community Hall for a big welcome to be followed by interviews and photographs for the local media.

After showering in the local campsite communal showers and throwing all our grimy cycle gear into the communal washing machines, we were each taken away by local families who had offered to put us up for the night [the hospitality in Ligueil was truly amazing]. Once settled in our adopted homes, we all taken back to the Community Hall for what can only be described as a FEAST. Salads of all types, wine, with a barbeque that seemed to be going all night, wine, followed by typical French deserts, wine, and cheese and wine. Everybody had a great evening and nobody had cottoned on to the fact that tomorrow was going to be the longest day. Anyway, wined and dined, welcome and thank-you speeches made, everybody went back to their hosts homes for a good solid nights sleep.

Oh, do you remember Charles’s bike, well the French fixed half the gears before we went to bed, and they finished the rest by 07:30 when we were regrouping ready for the departure (with heavy hearts and heavy heads) and onto Le Mans.

Go Podge, Go

Cycling For a Better Future

 

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