Back in the saddle

Just when it was all going so well... something goes wrong. We all know the feeling; it's part of human nature. The ancient Greeks knew it so well that they named it for us: Hubris and Nemesis. Hubris (or excessive pride) was actually a crime in ancient Athens. And just in case the law didn't get you, Nemesis was the goddess of retribution. Her name is related to neimeis - a helpful verb meaning "to give what is due." We'll come back to that later.

I was feeling pretty good after my last blog. You might even have accused me of hubris (albeit not in the criminal sense of violating a corpse or humiliating a defeated enemy).

But the best laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft agley. First, I got a cold. I've learned that trying to cycle through minor ailments tends to make them worse, so I took a couple of days off from the bike. Then, the cold settled on my chest with the result that every attempt at physical exertion brought on a coughing fit. Cycling in London is dicey at the best of times, but cycling with a cough that could pitch you into the path of every passing bendybus, deathwish motorcycle courier or irritable trucker exceeds even my well-developed affinity for risk.

So, I stopped all training until I could be reasonably certain of being able to ride in a straight line. Which point came on the evening of the tube strike. Synchronicity, eh? The next morning, I strode happily down to the garage, confident of getting to work on time while all around me struggled in on the remains of London's public transport network.

Of course, piling hubris on hubris in this way invites nemesis as surely as picking Joe Worsley at 7 invites derision. It was almost inevitable that she would have it in for me. But her punishment was, I thought, overly harsh: some [expletive deleted] had nicked my bike, somehow getting into our garage and using a plank to lever the U-lock off. To mix my religious metaphors, is my karma really that bad? Is having my bike nicked really "what is due" for being a bit smug? Wouldn't a puncture would have sufficed?

Actually, as it turned out, not even bicycle theft was enough to satisfy She Who From Whom There Is No Escape (or Adrasteia, as the Greeks more succinctly put it). Oh no. I didn't have the option of working from home that day, because I had arranged an important meeting with my boss. So I took the bus in. 3 hours later I got to the office, only to find that the meeting had been cancelled. Ouch!

Fortunately, my insurance covered it (the stolen bike, not the bus journey and cancelled meeting), and I now have a shiny (well, chic matte black) new bike. I've managed about 60 miles this week. Unfortunately, it seems that in the 4 years since I last bought a bike, suspension has gone out of fashion on road bikes. The new machine is much more responsive than the old one - I can feel the thickness of the paint on road markings - but it isn't half hard on my backside.

I'm also experimenting with joining a gym. Of course, the original reason I got the bike is that I'm not disciplined enough to go to a gym regularly... but one of the Everest Base Camp party has negotiated a fantastic rate with The Thirdspace in Soho, which is a gym with a difference.

The main attraction is that it has a hypoxic chamber - a room where they keep the oxygen at a level equivalent to about 3000m (the height at which our trek starts). Fantastic for boosting the cardiovascular capacity. So, asks I, on my introductory tour, do I have to book my sessions? No, comes the reply, hardly anyone uses it. My theory is that they've offered us such a good deal so that other gym users will see us training and get interested in using the room.

Meanwhile, fundraising continues to go well. Huge thanks go to my son Gregor's nursery (Gwendolen House Nursery in Putney) for donating the proceeds of their summer fete - over £1,000 - to VSO, and to the wannabe Schumachers, Alonsos and Hamiltons who have signed up for my karting event on Friday 28th (which is also set to raise around £1,000).

Next up on the fundraising front is my prize draw. We've got four great prizes:
- A table for 4 in the top hospitality suite at Ascot, for any event except Royal Ascot itself
- A case of vintage claret
- A corset - custom made to your own design (note to blokes: you may not get this, but I've had an enthusiastic response from the other half of the population. Think Christmas present...)
- A week's accommodation in a luxury villa in Spain

Tickets are £10 each, and I'm only selling 250, so you've a good chance to win. Get in touch to reserve your numbers.