Apologies for the late post but I am KNACKERED. Poor Mr Weenie had a bizarre night as he was so gripped by a nightmare that he woke me up by attempting to push me off the bed, gripping my arm when I asked what he was doing, attempting to leave the room via the wardrobe, then near running out of the bedroom door, coming to his senses only when he reached the bathroom and wondered what on earth he was doing in there.
As a consequence I'm bushed.
It doesn't help that I was out with my sisters last night too. Reg came with me to the pub though and it took me about 10 minutes to get home, bliss.
S and I met up at the usual time after last week's drama. We were understandably apprehensive. The bike shop couldn't find any problems despite her frequent inner tube splits so had concluded that my theory was correct and had retaped the inside of the wheel to protect the inner tubes from the spokes. After a test ride on Sunday had been successful we decided to go into work.
I had reasoned that the drama had lessened S's confidence a little so when we hit the road after the Chiswick Roundabout I carefully monitored my speed and let her take the lead. Oops. I was so busy checking my speedometer that I hadn't noticed she'd nipped off into the distance. I pedalled quickly to catch up only for her to nip off again. She was steaming ahead. She took lanes, overtook a Pashley, saw off an aggressive 4x4 and, as a result we got to Hammersmith Broadway at 8.45am. We were locking up our bikes by 8.55am.
When we first came all the way in we were locking up at 9.15am, that's a hell of a difference and means S has managed to achieve her goal of beating public transport for commuting time. We're already planning some longer routes home when she's built her confidence and strength back up. I was starting to wonder if we'd ever get over the bike problems and I'm pleased the bike shop saw sense, they even agreed to do the repairs for free.
At least for me, the nightmares are over.