Thursday, 3 July 2014

Oh Crap, I know this means a very sore bum

I know that this is how my bum is going to look on the 10th of August this year.  

I have decided that decisions I make lightly have a cruel karma cycle of biting me in the ass at a later date. 

This is one of those cruel karma moments. 

I agreed to participate in the Tomas Mulligan Memorial Cycle for Pieta House this year.  I was informed of it being the shortest cycle to date.

I thought, yea, no bother, cool as cucumber because in the words of Garth Brooks "Tomorrow never comes" Dopey Dora here had the spectacular idea that I would be, in the very lose Irish term "Grand" 

240 kilometres in 2 days.  No, that is not a typing error, that is the distance that I need to cover, on a bicycle! 

Last Sunday I decided to test cycle the racing bike that I had been given a loan of.  We said that we would cycle the 12 Locks of the canal, from Crumlin out as far as Hazel Hatch just past Lucan.  How hard could it be? 

Not a picture for the faint hearted

I thought the pain in my bum was going to be the end of me.  I thought I had been impregnated by a racing saddle, which as it turns out was a man's saddle, I later found out was the reason for it hurting so much. 

I couldn't even sit afterwards.  I had visions of ending up in the Coombe Women's Hospital having to get a saddle surgically removed. 

Laugh and mock as you may but I tell you, it was very real pain. 

I did all of this while my other half cycled the same distance with 2 children on his bike and the picnic and he laughed for the whole time. 

In fact he thought it was that funny, when we arrived back home after having the bum wrenching cycle and I needed to stretch "myself" out, he just had to take a picture. 

Such a delicate bottom

I then went later that day to a concert to see the Pixies in Marley Park, the plan was to drop the children home and cycle up.  

Those plans were changed to the safety of driving.  Sitting on the grass at that concert was impossible.  I cannot express the hilarity of how I must have looked.   

Using the facilities at any music concert normally comes with a health warning, but this particular occasions, I had a vision of mister Bean, the following day still being stuck in the same position in a urine filled cubicle and waiting to be air lifted to a hospital. 

What on earth have I gone and done? 

A challenge is very good for the mind, but this particular one may just break my spirit, and by spirit I mean my arse. 

At this particular time, I am not looking for sponsorship, I am looking for tips and strategies, either how to get out of this mess,  or how on earth I survive it. 

I have changed the saddle to a more appropriate one. 

It's called Plush for my plentiful bottom. 

I have welts in my hands because I'm holding on so tight, out of fear, I have welts on my bum and a face that says 

This multi tasking things is way beyond my abilities, changing gears while cycle on a road with other vehicles speeding past, laughing at me while I am screaming to my other half that I don't know which way is up gear. 

Now going back to my first picture

Now you understand how relevant this picture is, if you can help please contact me. 

Enjoy the Niptuck way, so you don't have to!

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