Well, today was going to be a busy day. Errands to run. A house to clean and the prospect of Angel-one finally going to Worcester hospital to have the Bambino. As I was out on my way to Merry Hell Centre I heard a text come on my phone. At the moment I jump at every sound my phone makes as it might be news of The Cyclist or Bambino. I looked at the text (I know I shouldn’t while driving), but it was worth it.
The text was from The Sports Therapist and it made me laugh out loud, shout at my windscreen and chunter to myself lots. I mean lots and lots. Here below is that actual text:
“Well I have no idea if K ahead or behind, he went off route and went thru a town before me (I was in right place – saw tour flags) driven for another hr from his txt and no sign – doh :-/ so now waiting a while although really not sure how I could have missed him if I passed him.”
Oh my. It isn’t just me! I know that I told you in many blogs that I had lost my Cyclist. And today the road they were on was straight with only two islands apparently. As much as I found this amusing sat in my own car, on a road I know very well, I knew that it wouldn’t look as amusing if you’re on a French island and The Cyclist is relying on you to be near him. I telephoned The Sports Therapist to see what I could do. What I know, but she didn’t know, is just how fast that Cyclist can move on fresh legs when there are no awful Italian mountains to climb. By finding out what time they set off, how far she had driven and what the time was, I expected him to be in front of her. I told her to put her foot down for about 40 miles and she should catch him. Just then a call from him came in to her, so I quickly put the phone down so she could answer it. A couple of texts later I knew that all was well and they were together again. Phew.
Meanwhile Angel-one was told by the hospital that they were too busy and to phone later. Boo Hoo. Eventually they told her to go in at 4.30pm and as I write now at 9.15pm, the last I heard from Angel-Boo is, she is still waiting to be seen as they are still busy. The good news is that she has been on a monitor and Bambino is ok. That is a relief to hear. So watch this space as I will explode with excitement if it comes before I leave for Nice.
When I spoke with The Cyclist tonight we obviously talked about him being without support for a while today. He told me it had been 30 degrees and he only had two fruit bars and two bottles all of which had vanished by 40 miles (sorry for different method of distance as he spoke in miles not Km). So he had to travel another 40 plus miles without any food or drink. That is hard in that heat believe me. Especially when he will burn about 10,000 calories on a cycling day without the sun beating down. He paid the price as he said that he had to stop about 2 miles before the finish line and re-fuel big time. Just like when he bonked going up an Italian mountain, he downed lots of jellies, cake and a protein shake to get him going again. When I phoned he was on his second bowl of pasta as he tried to get himself ready for tomorrow.
A little later I rang The Sports Therapist and talked her through what to do tomorrow so he doesn’t bonk again as I need him in really good shape as we head for the Pyrenees when I get to Nice. We will still have a long way and lots of mountains to go.
Both The Cyclist and I are very grateful to The Sports Therapist for helping us out so that I could stay behind waiting for the Bambino to arrive. It is not an easy task being on your toes every minute of the day and evening doing all the graft to make sure the cyclist is ok. A singer performs at a concert and takes all the credit but there is a huge team behind the scenes that ensure it all goes smoothly. When supporting The Cyclist you have to be the whole support team all by yourself. So to the Sports Therapist we say “Chapeau” hats off. Now she knows what it is like and she said she is no longer a Tour De France virgin. She can do the ride into Paris in a Monday morning rush hour if she wants, because I really am dreading that bit.
I telephoned the hotel where MM_Scimitar and Nanakatz are staying to see if I could get a message to them. My oh my. That was SO not a Scottish accent on the recaption desk and there was deafening bagpipe music and frivolity booming down the phone. Together this made my task a lot more difficult than it should have been. Did the reception guy understand me and did my parents get the message. At the moment I don’t know.
I will add photo’s once I am sent them, but until then I will carry on watching the voice final and waiting for news on Angel-one.
Update: I know who won The Voice and once again the British public amaze me!