Stage three – your hand in mine

I realise now that if I am going to spell peloton correctly, I should probably also refer to the days as stages. Because sometimes a day passes and it is not a stage, it is just a day.

I also realise that I should probably never watch any stages of the Tour de France if I want my “teams” to do so well. Because clearly, they are just doing just fine without me trying desperately to know what is going on. You may consider watching the happy ending here. It’s all I saw, because I was trying to sleep through the sound of my neighbours, a.k.a Bogans of the Living Dead.

I seem to like this Garmin team quite a bit, which is based only on watching one documentary about them last year which is indicative of how quickly my loyalties can be gained. Just an hour of not so exciting documentary film making and I am yours. I like Thor as much as the next person, and I like David Millar probably more than the next person. I always giggle when I get confused if Phil means the “rider” Hesjedal or Ryder Hesjedal. I also feel happy for Tyler Farrar who won last night’s stage.

Cadel is doing rather well too. I hope he is happy on a hill climbing for a finish tonight too. That would be nice for us both, don’t you think?

[audio:|titles=01 Neurotic World]

I have included this song here because I have just worked out how to include this song here, but that is not very exciting for you, when in fact I wanted to insert this song here for you, but I haven’t worked out how to include this song here for you. This other song is a good song too, but the one I wanted reminds me of Sonia and Sonia is some other kind of wonderful.

But what does this all have to do with the Tour?

Little, but much.

I was chatting today with a friend about another friend (who incidentally was training for the Olympics, as you do). Nick, we shall call him, because that is his name, said to me once that people overestimate greatly what can be achieved in a day or a week, but then underestimate just as greatly what can be achieved in a year. As a result, they give up early on things that they would actually be able to achieve, because the small, imperceptible changes and developments that are required are harder to observe and to feel motivated by.

I also had another guru advise me that “it would all work out”. Often times, I did not believe them that this was the case and I would jump up and down asking them and me and me and them to get more work done on the working of things out. This was of not assistance whatsoever in the achievement of the things we wanted to get down.

I would like to believe that things will all work out.

Like for Garmin Cervelo. Because really Jonathan Vaughters seems a wee bit annoying sometimes, and didn’t he fall over or something when he was riding with Lance that first time Lance won something important? Perhaps in a water walkway? Who can remember that far back? Who cares, I was into other things back in 1999. Partying like it was, etc.


And no one really considers them a GC contention and they might not win any more stages. But I don’t care, because they’re keen to make the race exciting and I think the race is exciting having them in it. And presumably getting there was a heap of hard work, and boring days, repetitive training schedules that made no sense initially, and times at which they wondered that they probably shouldn’t give up on those dreams of riding over the line in a sweet blue Giro and making it work.

I’m quite glad they didn’t.

Because sometimes it doesn’t matter to me if you are a total winner all the time. I am not a total winner all the time. I sometimes believe that it really does suck when things don’t go your way. I just believe that sometimes having things go your way is a heap of small days that require lots of work and a potential feeling of ugh boring annoying.

That said, it can be nice to have someone hold your hand from time to time. That’s why I thought of this song.

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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