Happy 40th to Me!

On this very day forty years ago, a diminutive daughter of Italian immigrants started to feel the pangs of her own rock star birth. How was she to know that the man child she delivered in the maternity ward of the Camperdown Children's Hospital on that fateful day would grow into the svelte, toned and devilishly handsome author of this update? Dunno, but I'm taking her out to lunch today to say thanks.

And to the other significant woman in my life, The Lovely Samantha - the only woman I've managed to pull in my thirties, I also say thanks (she's coming to lunch too). Although given that I was already well on my way to being svelte & toned when we met, one could say she made an astute investment in her future.

So on that note - here’s to the future! May the strong women in my life continue to stay strong, particularly in the face of frugality, flatulence and fading hair – all hallmarks of the forties.

Minas.

Does this thing still work???

Hiya;

Just as i was lamenting the dearth of weekend correspondence, some timely emails popped up! Love it! 

Like buying houses and having kids, it's now the bout of 40th’s spreading like a contagious outbreak through our social clique. Damo's was a particularly severe strain which waylaid me all the next day. If you're in town on the 27th pop by Surry hills for a drink on me and we can reminisce about the time we meet as young 20-somethings. 

It's BBQ season at Chez Dochertoney and my four-burner matador has been put under considerable pressure. So much so that i think I've finally cracked the code for making vegetarian sausages taste good! It's all in the ordering see. Cook them first, on a clean grill, and they taste exactly like the tasteless soy bean extract from which they are constituted. Cook them last however, bathing them in the warm, bubbling residual fat tallow spa of animal products who've given their lives in the selfless pursuit of gastronomic nirvana, and you're onto a winner. And what The Lovely Samantha doesn't know cant kill her. Considering she's still by my side after nearly 19 years together, i must be doing something right with my sausage(s). 

Can't remember if i told you about our trip to Bali during the year for Shane's wedding. I was best man and carried the added burden of being MC. They wanted an informal setting for the evening so gave me no run sheet or schedule to speak of. So, leaning heavily on my penchant for useless banter and self-indulgence i managed to pull it off and somehow also delivered a passable speech. Although with a belly full of Bintang there were probably just as many guests laughing at me as with me. 

In October i went with some buddies for a cycling trip through the Pyrenees. We started on the West coast and finished seven days and 900km later on the Mediterranean coast having climbed in excess of 20km elevation over some of the most iconic cols that France & Spain offer. Fuck me if it wasn't the best holiday I've ever had. I ate every piece of french cuisine i could find from pastry laden mornings to rich slow cooked guesthouse feasts every night. And i kept the vin rouge on a short leash - it was never out of arms reach. Considering we burnt on average 5000 calories a day, i didn't put on any weight...until i stopped riding to attend Neil Trickett's wedding in Bordeaux. Problem is that although I'd stopped riding, i didn't stop eating. It's taken me several months since returning to drop back down to race weight. 

This summer has seen Bodhi enter the U9’s nippers and symbolically enter the big ocean for the first time. In previous years they’ve been confined to swimming in the safety of the ocean baths or wading into swells under claustrophobic parental supervision. This year they’ve earned their wings and have been swimming out , practically unassisted, into the big, dark, angry sea & back. All told they swim about 400m, come back in, grab a board and head back out about 700m further. Talk about heart stopping adrenaline…for the finger-biting, nerve-wracked parents standing on the shore watching helplessly. Just when I thought I couldn’t be any prouder he goes and becomes a real life nutri-grain kid. That’s my boy!

Work continues to make me laugh, although more for the recent spate of attention grabbing headlines than anything resembling an inherent sense of enjoyment or fulfillment. However, It still remains my primary method of feeding my addiction to boy-toys and holidays so for the mean time it’ll stay. However, my current contract finishes in April marking six years at ANZ - double my previous record of 3yrs at any one company - Cause for celebration…or cessation…i think i'm quietly hoping the latter.

Love to all,
Minas.

Twiddling Thumbs & Nipper Conundrums

Watched a cracking DVD on Friday night – Gone Girl. Worth a look if you haven’t already seen it. If you’ve read the book, probably not the same reaction, as it was the plot twists which completely hooked me.

Got up early on Saturday and did….nothing. It’s still a weird feeling now as It’s the first time in ages I have nothing on the immediate horizon to train for (Pyrenees cycle trip is still a long way off – September). So, I took the opportunity to indulge another great passion – tea & toast on the porch with the Fin Review in hand.

I love the idea of reading the Fin. Finding a little undervalued gem that no-one else has seen and turning it into an astute investment. It’s a work in progress, has been for several years now - I’m playing the long game. They’re due to come good any minute now.

In the afternoon I picked up a fridge from my grandparent’s recently sold house, saying goodbye to the place in the process. I’d spent some time there in my formative years before meeting a particularly Lovely girl (her name is Samantha). The rest is history, which you’ve all been reading about ever since.

Sunday started with a shortish 60km cycle (by recent standards anyway) down the east coast of Sydney from Watsons bay to La Perouse and back, meeting my clan back at Bronte for the final nippers of the season. When it comes to Nippers, Bodhi is a paradox. He hates waking up, protests all the way there in the car but by the end of the session cant hide his unbridled enthusiasm for the boarding & swimming. Not sure what to do. I really want him to continue with it, part selfishly as I love an excuse to go to the beach, but more importantly the water skills & safety aspect…oh and to grow into a svelte, toned and devilishly handsome lifesaver just like his dad, but with the added ability to save lives. We’ve spoken about doing it next year – he’s dead set against, we’re dead set for it. Question is, how do I let him think he’s making the decision but get my way? Dunno, but we’ve got several months to work it out. Suggestions welcome.

Later in the arvo, I put together some Ikea cabinetry – “Adult Lego” as I described it to Bodhi. Here’s me stupidly thinking it was idiot proof. As I sat for an hour trying to make sense of a missing piece of the puzzle, I scratched my head and admitted defeat.

Early onset anyone?

See ya,

Minas.

#HubbardWatch Respect

Picture this: You've ridden hard all day. 205km in fact. Your legs are cooked. A sign on a bend proclaims “ONLY 30km to go!”. While the sign emphasises the “ONLY”, ironically you’re thinking “SHIT 30km still!!!”…all uphill. Welcome to “What The Fuck” corner.

WTF Corner marks the start of the last, most brutal climb in the epic endurance event called The Three Peaks Challenge. Billed as one of the top 10 toughest one day cyclo-sportifs in the world, it unashamedly delivers more than your worst-case-scenario expectations might have prepared you for.

So, back to the corner and the start of the fabled “Back of Falls” climb – I’d set a personal target of a 10hr total ride time and made it to the base of the climb in 9.5hr pace. Kick Ass I thought, but in the trade off to give myself more of a climbing buffer, I’d depleted all my salts and felt the tell-tale niggles of impending cramps. Now cramps are just like relatives* you don’t like - you hope they never visit, but if so, pray they don’t stay too long and only offer them horrible snacks in the hope they take the hint and leave quickly. Unfortunately, the cramps came a knockin’, didn't take the hint with the sickly sweet hydralite concentrated concoction I offered up and stayed far too long for my liking – a whole hour too long as it turns out.

There’s no shame in walking wounded up a mountain pushing one of the finest carbon fibre bikes money can buy, or so I repeatedly told myself. Of little recompense was that I was not alone. The brutal first half stretch Back of Falls is a war zone. Flailing mamils strewn all over the place. Bodies doubled over in varying states of empathetic cringe inducing cramp and fatigue. Not a dry brow or smile in sight for 10km.

Anyways, an hour after arriving, the cramps eventually got the hint and left. I gingerly managed the remaining 20km in the granny gears, hoping like hell they wouldn't come back claiming to have left something behind. I rolled through the finish line of toughest thing I've ever done, 10hrs 49mins after setting off, too numbed to feel anything beyond relief.

In cycling, the term hubbard is often thrown about by fashwan wank wanks (like me) in non-deference to other cyclists sporting event paraphernalia jerseys or any other kit choice deemed “uncool”, #hubbardwatch being a handle for any hubbard spotting posted on twitagram.

After my three peaks accomplishment, I've got a new jersey, and i'm going to wear it with pride!

Minas.

*Disclaimer: I love all my relatives equally and want them ALL to come visit more often.

St Georges Basin

Hey All;

Belter of a weekend up here. A real rip snorter.

We headed down to Jervis bay on Friday night, arrived at a rental house about 11pm, Unpacked the car, fell asleep a few minutes later.

Up at 5am to get ready and out the door for my early triathlon start. In the drink by 7am, on the bike 15 mins later and hit the run course about 35 mins after that. Dragged myself up the finish shoot in 1hr 14. Thankfully it was “just” sprint distance (750m/20k/5k) as my old nemesis (manful) struck with a vengeance in the lead up. One down, two to go.

The Lovely Samantha was up next and just like FedEx, she always delivers. Throw her in a skin tight lycra onesie and it’s impossible not to be impressed. Braving the dark things in the water, she completed her swim, emerged unscathed from the murky depths and then proceeded to ride and run over the top of any pretenders in her way. Two down, one to go.

Then there was Bodhi…What can I say? I dunno who had a bigger smile – him collecting his finishers medal for his first Miniman, or us – proudest parents on the planet. That’s my boy! Although something tells me he just did it for that feeling of freedom. The wind in his air while riding/running without his helicopter parents hovering over his every move.

Several other friends were also down for the triathlon and we all let our hair down on Saturday night. Turns out the rental house was right on the waterfront in St George’s Basin and it was simply sublime. The serenity was a constant talking point “How’s the serenity?”….Great food, nearly too much to drink and a birthday cake thrown in for fun.

Sunday was just bliss – bacon & eggs on the deck perched over the water, lunch on Hyam’s beach complete with its turquoise waters and a lazy afternoon drive home.

If it gets any better, i don’t want to know about it.

Minas.

Cycling, DIY and more Cycling

Happy New Year!

We had a cracker long weekend here. Saturday’s weather was sublime – Started with a nice ride to Brooklyn and back. A new cafe just opened at the Mooney Mooney bridge inviting us in for a rare mid-ride coffee. In our group was a 59 yr old guy who put all us “youngsters” to shame. I tried (in vain) to lose him on a decent hill climb but he didn't even bat an eyelid, his measured cadence shadowing me the entire way. That’s who I want to be when I grow up!

I was safely back home (Tail between my legs) by 10 am to start on the patio painting doors and window sills. Thankfully all done by 5 pm. I’d officially like to declare the patio “Mission Accomplished” too, meaning I can hand over the project to the Business-As-Usual staff to continue maintenance going forward. Not sure the chain of command will agree though.

Sunday was horribly hot – 35 degrees in the shade. Bodhi did an early morning song and dance not wanting to go to nippers. His quivering upper lip plea technique worked well enough for me to cave in. Instead we faffed about the house till early afternoon, went for a bike ride around centennial park in the (during the Sun’s zenith) and finished with a cooling dip at Clovelly before heading home to an Indian Takeaway in front of the idiot box. Why sweat outside when you can sweat indoors with a nice vindaloo?!

The computer says I burnt 6500 calories on Monday courtesy of a 200 km ride to Wollongong and back. The Australia Day weather had turned noticeably cooler with a bit of drizzle about, but it was mostly pleasant and we didn't get too drenched. The route took us through national parkland and along the coast with a cracker tail wind all the way back. Quite chuffed (and boastful) to call a 200k ride training for a bigger ride, but that’s exactly what it is. The 3-Peaks 240 km Victorian Alps behemoth is just six weeks away and counting.

Ozzie ozzie ozzie,

Minas.

Hey;

Last weekend update for the year…promise.

Richard Roxburgh anyone? I rate him very highly in the current crop of Aussie actors doing the rounds. His eponymous Rake character on ABC is one of my faves. Anyway he’s currently starring in the Sydney Theatre Company’s Cyrano De Bergerac and that’s exactly where we found ourselves on Friday night. The Lovely Samantha insisted on a bit of culture and who am I to turn down the requests of the Lovely Lady.

Unfortunately for me, Richard’s tour-de-force ran headlong into the unstoppable force of my early-to-bed-early-to-rise circadian rhythm which waits for no man, on stage or otherwise. I caught myself doing the sleepy head bob on a few occasions.

Saturday started with my usual Manly swim which just gets more cathartic & enjoyable as time goes by. I managed to coax a hesitant co-worker to give it a try and she seemed to relish it enough to at least intimate she might come again.

Some friends came over for lunch which gave me the excuse to retry my tender bbq roast lamb recipe again. Not as tender as the previous attempt, but still damn good!

I rode to Palm beach & back on Sunday morning with the usual bunch. It’s a longish route at 100km, but easily one of my favourite rides as it tracks the northern beaches seaboard which is simply stunning and reminds you that Sydney’s got some true beauty once you strip back its vanity and one-upmanship (ironic given most cyclists always try to look good with sexy new kits and constantly try to best each other up a hill, or on a sprint).

Back for a bit of pool action with Bodhi and an afternoon lounging in the backyard with friends.

Love to you and yours.

See ya,

Minas.