'It is the universe that makes fun of us all.'

This has been my training program from last Friday and still counting:

Friday – 37,3

Saturday – 37,6

Sunday – 37,7

Monday – 37,8

Tuesday – 37,7

Wednesday – 37,6

No they're not even miles unluckily or anything else, but fever temperatures during these days. It hasn't been too easy to stick on the sofa and see the sunshining and temperatures rising outdoors up to +15.

I still gotta say that I've really done something. I've watched both season of Life during four days. That's not bad really. Besides one can really learn things from Charlie Crews, but still you don't have to be here to be here. Charlie is really cool guy with the Zen thing, and not to forget his funds or the Maserati with bullet holes. To be honest, what he says is clever at times and there are seeds of wisdom in his words and he eats shitloads of fruit, which is wise as well – or is it? Actually, I'd really like to be his friend. Too bad he is a just a character...

All in all, I haven't done really anything last week, but watched telly. To be honest it isn't easy to see the bikes in the corner waiting for miles, but no can do. All I can do is just wait and see, yes, and most probably watch Dexter for example...

And yes. As mr. Crews said: 'It is the universe that makes fun of us all.' At the moment it is playing with me as well.

An unforgettable day on bike.

Notorious crank?

Monday was bloody brilliant. The weather was really good and I had planned to go out for some three hours on my road bike. Sounds like a plan, but things ain't that simple always. It was all good until three I had ridden for five minutes – somehow the jockey wheel had dried and got stuck. U-turn and back home to fix it. Alright then, I'll try again and five minutes into the new start I notice that, yes, I have forgotten my bottle to kitchen table.

Frustrated I was, but I came back home to collect the water bottle. Then I decided that I'll have one more go today and if it sucks I'll have a rest day. Not that I was hoping to have one though. Off I went, again. I passed the five minute mark flying this time, took tight right and the first hill of the day was there. I haven't felt that good on my road bike for ages. I just rolled it up and kept going. New route, new sceneries, new feeling – could be worse. I just hadn't taken all the possible faults into consideration. Yes, I had spare tube, allen keys and all the small stuff. But at times the dude up there somewhere decides to play unfair and this was one of those days.

I had been riding just a tad over a hour as I thought about the day: ”How can such a bad day turn into brilliant one in just a minute?” Don't think too far, you idiot. I took a smaller road to countryside, bit bumpy one but still very much alright. I didn't quite know where I was going anymore and I came to a crossing; Llanvairrir kilkölikll to left and something else to the right. Well, the right sounded well good and I started again, but only for two strokes. My left feet felt weird and I thought: ”Jeez, there goes the cleat!” How wrong I was, with my guess about such a minor problem? Terribly wrong! It was quite and unforgettable feeling to notice that the pedal threads from the left crank arm were screwed totally. There I was somewhere some 30 odd kilos from home with one working crank. The good day turned to I nightmare in a second, but I was used to it from Christmas time.

I tried to get help as I found a construction site, but they didn't have allen keys!? Thanks anyway mate, you did your best to find one. Then I found a house in which lived really nice and helpful older couple. As said they were so nice, but didn't quite get my problem. I wasn't ill or anything. So I passed that house and found a sign to post office. I went there, but I think that everyone can guess the answer. Yes, it as closed and moved out earlier this year. I still rolled around the village called Llanover. It had couple houses and huge graveyard, I felt that quite funny at that time. So I wandered around looking for a pub or anything I could get to know where I am and what's the best option to get home. I found bus stop, but next bus would have left in two or three hours. Well good.

After a while I just decided to start walking towards home and other (dead?) villages with my cycling shoes on. That's not the best shoe for a unknown distance walk, is it? But now I want to refer to my earlier post considering the relationship between good and bad luck. Let's call it 'Do I believe that good luck follows bad luck? Vol. 2'. Back then I wasn't quite sure yet, but now I definetly am and for a reason. I had walked a mile or so when a Nissan Micra turned stopped and a nice lady offered me a lift to somewhere closer Caerleon and quickly added that she'll take me home anyway. How nice was that from her. I'm only too grateful, thanks Rach, you saved my day.

At home I started to see if can get spare parts and remove the crank I couldn't do it myself. It only took three guys and one feet long hex wrench to be removed. But that's another story...

(c) Anton Aro

Photos from Manc & Haywards Heath.

(c) British Cycling

(c) Paavo Aro

Having it good at home.

At first, for once I do have shitloads to write about. Don't panic though. Grab a cup of coffee or whatever you wish and have a read. At the moment I'm spending the last night of my home stay, but more about that later. Let's go back to Manchester first...

So I went to Manc for my first world cups. We had three days of official training and then on Friday I had my race. The training went really well, considering that I haven't been on track too much. I was quite confident to hit my target and that feeling got just stronger as the Friday came closer. It wasn't wrong. The near catastrophical times in arctic Kaarst were behind and, for everyrone's luck, the drome in Manc was nice smooth and warm. The official hotel was lush in terms of the rooms, but as we went for dinner – it wasn't quite so pleasant. Organizing dinner and lunches for athletes; and they give each rider one piece of salmon or whatever. What the hell was that all about? The best bit of the food happened to be the canned yoghurt, they couldn't destroy it. More about the training, I felt good and managed to do my efforts, so happy days.

Race day baby! I had a good chat with my father/coach/chauffeur/chef/soigneur/physio (the problem with being such a small cycling country) about the days schedule and warm up. To the track we went well before the race, to grab our lunch bags and have chill time gettin' ready for the race. Sad but true, the lunch bags were better than the actual lunch in the hotel. Some areas for improvement, ha? At the track center it was cool and I warmed up well, went to the bike check, checked the position and 5-4-3-2-1-beep! The race was on.

Well, I had a good schedule. But what if I don't follow it? The planning has been real waste of time. And I made sure of that at the very first lap. At 1k split I was three seconds ahead of the planned pace. Mitä junnuhöntyilyä, hä? That somehow caused quite a struggle for the remaining three kilos. The good news was that I wasn't doing badly after setting 70s kilo for the first one. FYI: my kilo record is 67 seconds. But at least my pair didn't overtake me at the very start, and I was in Top-3 for a quick while at 500m mark. So I've been in Top-3 at world cup level for a while... Yippikayey. I didn't end up high though by placing on the bottom side, which really wasn't a surprise. Tough guys are tough, I'll be there one day. Despite that I managed to keep the ride together quite well. I ended up recording my PB's for 2k, 3k and also for the full distance 4k. I ended up with 4.49,526 and I gotta say I'm pleased. There are some easy seconds to cut from the time and then there are the hard ones. There's always next time and we are on the track now.

After that we just enjoyed the experience and had quality time watching the races and eating the crappy food. Or if you can call couching badly for all night quality time, I don't know then. One day off and then some floorball. Not many guys go for world cups and national championship tournaments at the same weekend. I did that, but I also was dead tired at the end.

Now I've been home for a good week. I played some hockey and I'm fair bit disappointed with my parents (not really). I'm sure I could be in NHL now if they had let me play as I was a kid. But no. My mom would have the Porsche I promised, but no. I was about to go for some xc-skiing, but successfully killed those thougths for some reason. I've also eaten whatever I like. Also my father seems to have successed with me, I've began to like red wines as well. Anyway, it's been good times and now it is back to basics.

P.S. Some pics will follow later on.