Not a good morning for running

Had a seriously unpleasant run this morning. Initially, my problem was that the weather was against me. A torrential storm had tracked through at about four but this had done little to improve the humidity and by five, when I hit the road, the temperatures were high to turn the rainwater into mist, make the air feel horribly close and hot.

Then, once I'd settled into a good pace and come to terms with the heat, I had managed to get hit in the eye by midge. While contacts spared me the worst of the discomfort, I still had to run three miles home with that nasty feeling that I'd got something in my eye and that it'd probably be a nightmare to find unless I got it out straight away, which I of course I couldn't do because I didn't have a mirror. Still, it's my own stupid fault for going running without glasses. I thought that, because the sun wasn't shining, I didn't need to bother wearing my sunnys, forgetting that they also kept me safe from the insects that swarm along the river in summer. Not a mistake I'm likely to repeat anytime soon.

ETA: a big gross blob of stuff feel out of the corner of my eye sometime around mid-morning and I suddenly felt a whole lot better. Yet another win for human biology, while the insect kingdom has yet to score!

Our morning's musical meditations

Inspired by Friday's Guardian, we had a very music oriented coffee discussion this morning. None of us were convinced by all the coverage of Springsteen in the paper. Our considered opinion was that he was too boring to be worthy of discussion and that even Michael Jackson would have been a better subject for conversation. Not that we talked about Jackson, of course. Instead, we talked about The Horrors' Primary Colours, which comes highly recommended.

On the way back to our desks, after I bad mouthed Tchaikovsky, we even debated whether Bruckner is more difficult than Wagner. While Wagner's operas have length and great melodic complexity — all those leitmotivs to keep track of — working against them, they've also got a plot and characters and things that you can hang on to if you ever feel you're at risk of drowning. But with the Bruckner symphonies, it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the massive, structural hugeness of it all; it's not the sort of music that you can dip into or that you can just put on in the background; it's the sort of music that demands and requires concentrated attention.

A Giant improvement

Finally my months of mooning and sighing and boring all my friends rigid about bikes are over: I'm now the proud owner of a Giant SCR C4. It's sitting in the corner of my living room right now, propped up against the bookshelves. Since I don't have a camera, here's a stock shot (you'll have to imagine my shelves, books and the little posable Spider Jerusalem stood in one corner):

Although I haven't been out for a serious ride yet — the humidity is still horrible — I really enjoyed my meandering ride back from the bike shop, especially after all the Brompton rides I've done recently.

Don't get me wrong, the Brompton's a great little bike and I like it a lot. It's good for commuting and, surprisingly, with it's little wheels and funny gears, it's actually been a excellent little trainer. But it just doesn't come close to touching a decent road bike. Unlike the Brompton, the Giant accelerates like a dream, floats up hills and corners like it's on rails (the folder's small wheels and short trail, give the steering a slightly edgy feel). But then, you couldn't fold up the Giant and take on the train with you, even if it is lighter than the Brompton.

I'm hopeful that, if the weather looks better first thing tomorrow, I might be able to go for a couple of preliminary spins to start bedding things in and to get more used to the bike. I'm particularly keen to get some experience with clipless pedals — I suspect that they're probably easier to use than toe clips, because you no longer have to bend down and tighen and loosen the straps — but I'm still a little bit apprehensive about being more directly attached to the pedals. Although, given the large number of stupid and dangerous things I've clipped myself on to — does anybody else remember the monoski from it's brief period of popularity back in the 80s? — I don't know what I've got to be nervous about...