Sunday bloody Sunday!

The Trek was overdue some TLC, there had been a few issues plaguing it but nothing serious enough to stop me riding, the pistons in my juicy carbons were sticking and I'd put off repairing everything else as I was waiting for the pistons to come. With the pistons turning up I spent a few hours Friday alone in the shed with nothing but the brilliant white light of my Magicshine for company. Sorting the pistons was a painless task, if not a little time consuming, after this a close inspection of the rest ensued and it was like opening a can of worms. The rear mech was bent, play had developed in the Bottom Bracket (BB) and I found a broken spoke in the rear wheel, the rear freehub was a mess and the bearings in the rear wheel felt like they were filled with grit. There was no time to order specific parts before the race on Sunday so the rear mech was gently teased back straight - ish (well it worked anyway) The bearings were removed cleaned and re-greased in the rear wheel and the free hub cleaned up, I had a spare spoke kicking about in the shed so this was threaded into the wheel and the wheel was trued up. The BB was left as I knew I couldn't get hold of a spare.(think I'll try the Superstar GXP one next as the Truvativ ones are proper pants). Feeling satisfied with my efforts I was looking forward to race day. 

Beeb Beep. Beep Beep, my alarm was ringing out. It was race day. I had trained well and was confident I could improve on my last result, I wheeled the Trek out and decided to give it a quick spin. Disaster struck! The top Jockey wheel threw itself like a Kamikaze into the sharp rotating teeth of the rear cassette, it appears that the thread on the screw of the jockey wheel had been ruined in the original impact or the bending of it straight, either way the mech was dead. I could get a mech at the race. So I threw some tools into the car, got my shit together and headed off. Arriving at FR10 the bike was unloaded in a rush and I headed over to the very helpful chaps at the Chelmer Cycles stand who supplied me with a mech, some gear outer and inner, and the use of some cutters. Thanks guys. Now. And this was the straw that broke the camels back. Whilst rushing about trying to get sorted I had grown aware that my stomach was not happy, but after all the effort of the last few days this race was going to happen. But first I needed to go to the port-a-loos. Desperately. After queuing for some time on the verge of all sorts of accidents a port-a-loo became available, lets not get to bogged down in this (pardon the pun) I'll just say it was messy! and that was it, time had elapsed the race took off with out me. A fume-army rushed over me, all the training, the hours spent in the shed all for nothing. Sometimes no matter how hard you try everything is against you, I should have stayed in bed. Instead I got up at 7am, dragged my better half  to Thetford, dropped £30 quid on a Deore rear mech, some cable and a chain link, made a mess in a port-a-loo and then drove home. In an Alan Partridge style all I can say is Sunday bloody Sunday.