Advertisement
If you have a new account but are having problems posting or verifying your account, please email us on hello@boards.ie for help. Thanks :)
Hello all! Please ensure that you are posting a new thread or question in the appropriate forum. The Feedback forum is overwhelmed with questions that are having to be moved elsewhere. If you need help to verify your account contact hello@boards.ie
Buffalo & Doozerie - The mild musings of two grumpy old men!
Options
Comments
-
My fear is that many people drift into that kind of thoughtless, mindless state without realising it themselves and it becomes an habitual norm for them. I am not so sure it is a mindful lack of empathy.
My views on that have changed over the years, perhaps just with age. I used to think that people who do blatantly stupid things on the road are just being mindless, not wilfully ignorant, but I've come to believe that the root of the problem is that they've willingly absolved themselves of the obligation to care about the consequences of what they do.
At least, I recognise that in myself - I like to think that I'm a considerate person and that I don't impose myself on others, yet when I'm commuting (in particular, it doesn't arise so much when out for a spin) I tend to see slower cyclists as a real hindrance rather than simply a fact of life. And this despite the fact that I perceive that attitude from some motorists towards me and I hate it. In fairness, some cyclists arguably invite hostility by their obnoxious actions on a bike, but it's easy to let frustration at their antics to feed into a self-serving justification for mentally relegating them into a category of idiot that needs to be got past at any cost.
At a certain level that's a conscious decision that I make, it's as if I turn off my conscience in the presence of this (apparently obnoxious) person and do things that I'd normally consider unacceptable, such as squeeze past them closer than I typically would, stop closer to them than I typically would, ride closer to their rear wheel than I typically would, etc. I could try to argue that I'm doing this mindlessly, but if I'm being really honest with myself then I have to acknowledge that I consciously flip a switch in my head that turns me from a conscientious and empathetic road user into, basically, a dick. I think many people on the roads do likewise, I think I've lost the patience to give them the benefit of the doubt about whether there is a conscious decision involved at some level.
...or maybe I've just flipped another more subtle internal switch that turns me from "empathic person, really sound, like" into "grumpy judgemental fecker".
0 -
-
...or maybe I've just flipped another more s;)ubtle internal switch that turns me from "empathic person, really sound, like" into "grumpy judgemental fecker".
The TV programme QI, covered the topic of the "Grumpy Old Man" and apparently their source references concluded that it is not something acquired with age, i.e., if you are a "Grumpy Old Man", you were more likely to have been a "Grumpy Young Man"!0 -
-
-
Advertisement
-
-
-
-
-
-
Advertisement
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Your first description made it sound like she was in front of you which probably explains the confusion, don't think you done anything wrong if she was already out of the way and you weren't near her.
Yeah I only read it back and it read like I'd the cross hairs on for my sprint home 0 -
-
Advertisement
-
-
[Yet another long post, but hey, I'm on holiday! Short version: kids are awesome, particularly mine ]
The day of the Stephen Roche GP seemed to take a long time to arrive as far as my daughter was concerned. She had finallly made the decision to ride her bike only a few weeks before. She had grown to love her balance bike but seemed hesitant to make the transition to a bike with pedals until the apparently randomly chosen day arrived when, with her usual seemingly casual approach which we know well at this stage to be underpinned by a steely determination, she insisted that she go outside and ride the bike.
On day one my wife gave her a push each time to get her going and she wobbled off while trying to negotiate pedalling and steering at the same time. On day two she was pushing herself off. On day three she was cycling to school alongside my wife, and declaring she didn’t like the hills between our house and Montessori. When she got home though, despite the hills, she’d insist on practicing on the road/footpaths outside our house, which usually turned unto a race with whichever parent was cycling alongside her. It was just fun, not an indication of a highly competitive nature. There was some mild cheating involved too, just childish games, not at all an indication of a ruthless determination.
My wife had brought her to see the Stephen Roche GP last year, and she’d enjoyed it. She was intrigued by the race for the very young kids. She had casually mentioned that she’d like to do it the next year. We thought it would be fun to see her “race” on her balance bike, fully prepared for this proving to be a fanciful idea of hers that didn’t stand the test of time - a year is a very long time to stick with any idea when you are small. A little over 11 months later and she was now proficient on her pedal bike, her balance bike collecting dust in a corner, she’d been out to the circuit to ride/pedal round part of it, and she’d already pointed out one local stretch of road as being “perfect to practice for the race”. That’s cute, we told ourselves, it’s just an off-hand remark, nothing scary, we haven’t created a monster.
Cue the evening of the race. She had had a big day already, she had spent a few hours that morning in the primary school she’ll be starting in later this year. We expected her to be tired by the evening, maybe going to the race was going to be the last thing on her mind. I arrived home from work to find her already finishing her dinner, dressed in the tiny kids cycling jersey we bought for her several months ago and which hadn’t seen the light of day since. We haven’t created a monster, no no.
All three of were going to cycle together to the race, a journey of about 2km or so. The responsible adults were being encouraged by the small child to “hurry up or we’ll be late for the race”. Perfectly normal… We were running a little late so our daughter motored along on her bike. Eagerness is good, we thought, nothing to fear there. She instigated impromptu mini races along the way, she certainly caught me napping more than once as I had to put in more than a casual effort to catch up with her. That’s normal too …right? We rode on a newly opened stretch of walking/cycling track along the way and she mentioned about it too being perfect to practice for the race. This may have been the point at which it dawned on us that we had, indeed, created a monster. Or, more correctly, this entirely self-motivated monster had created itself.
A confidence crisis as all of the kids were gathered together in one large group before their respective races reminded us that she really is just a 5yr old, and only by a few weeks too. We assumed she got nervous because of the general activity around her and applied parental reassurance involving hugs and verbal reminders that she was okay. Mind you, she did say later that the crisis was because she had seen much older kids around her and felt that this wasn’t fair as they were guaranteed to win the/her race. Hmm, a touch of the ambitious monster again then.
It seemed touch and go whether she’d regain enough confidence to actually do the race. She did. She lined up with the other kids in the novices (5yrs and under) race about 50m from the finish line. She still looked a little nervous, but there she was, tiny and determined. I was really proud of her, she’d come a long way to line up in her first bike race, in more ways than one. I had my camera phone ready to video the race but it went into standby while I waited. When the race started my daughter went from stationery to full sprint in what seemed like a fraction of a second. I was too slow, story of my life really, by the time I started recording she was already passing me at the half-way point, her face the same mask of focused determination that we’d become familiar with seeing as she practiced on her bike each day. She was in the lead. Admittedly several of the other kids in the race were on stabilisers which hindered rather than helped them, but there were a couple of boys without stabilisers and they were giving it socks too.
I yelled encouragement, mentally checking myself before I uttered something that might be frowned upon (I’m not entirely sure, but it’s possible that a shout of “Bury the bastards!” would have been seen as inappropriate). A few metres before the line she stopped pedalling and freewheeled. One of the boys put in an impressive effort and seemed on the verge of passing her out in the final two metres. She rolled over the line just ahead of him though, buffalo took a great photo of her which shows the same slightly impassive but determined facial expression as she took victory as she’d shown from the moment the race started. I wasn’t entirely sure if she realised she’d won, but a few minutes later as I chatted casually to her and congratulated her on the win, she threw both arms in the air and yelled “YESSS!”. She paused, and did it again. It was hilarious and brilliant all in one. I was delighted for her, it was fantastic to see her so proud of her own achievement.
My wife took her off for a victory ice cream, it was well earned. The prizes for the kids events were to be given out during the main race. My wife carried her up onto the trailer to receive her prize, cue another crisis of confidence. The noise and the crowds were a bit too much for her, perfectly understandable. When she calmed down though she was well chuffed with her prize, a Joe Daly Cycles cycling cap that actually suits her very well. She wore it cycling home later.
I have to say thanks a lot to Orwell Cycling Club for staging a great event (there were other races on the night too, other than the novices one like, apparently ). It may just have been instrumental in making cycling events and fun synonymous in my daughter’s mind, but at the very least she really enjoyed herself on the night and the confidence she took from it is evident each time she has climbed on her bike since. And thanks to buffalo too for some great photos which have received the approval of my daughter.
The novices race champ is currently on holiday in the west of Ireland. Though based on the way she is attacking the local hills on her bike, victory cap on her head, it might be better described as a secret training camp. I think she has plans to race again at next year’s Stephen Roche GP. The monster is flourishing 0 -
-
-
All that writing and I still forgot to post my daughter's stats. We bought her one of the Aldi cycle computers and it has been on her bike almost exactly 4 weeks and in that time she has clocked up 130km, max speed of 28.3kph, average speed of 12.9kph. That's made up almost entirely of commuting to and from Montessori each day, with a few short weekend spins thrown in where she cycled to one local playground or another. Well, that's our understanding anyway, from her perspective much of that might actually have been determined training for her recent big event/goal
Her biggest mileage for a single day to date is 14km - she cycled to Montessori in the morning, from there to her dance class in the evening, and cycled home afterwards. I'm in awe of her energy, kids really are solar powered.0 -
-
That post has made me smile. thanks.[Yet another long post, but hey, I'm on holiday! Short version: kids are awesome, particularly mine ]
The day of the Stephen Roche GP seemed to take a long time to arrive as far as my daughter was concerned. She had finallly made the decision to ride her bike only a few weeks before. She had grown to love her balance bike but seemed hesitant to make the transition to a bike with pedals until the apparently randomly chosen day arrived when, with her usual seemingly casual approach which we know well at this stage to be underpinned by a steely determination, she insisted that she go outside and ride the bike.
On day one my wife gave her a push each time to get her going and she wobbled off while trying to negotiate pedalling and steering at the same time. On day two she was pushing herself off. On day three she was cycling to school alongside my wife, and declaring she didn’t like the hills between our house and Montessori. When she got home though, despite the hills, she’d insist on practicing on the road/footpaths outside our house, which usually turned unto a race with whichever parent was cycling alongside her. It was just fun, not an indication of a highly competitive nature. There was some mild cheating involved too, just childish games, not at all an indication of a ruthless determination.
My wife had brought her to see the Stephen Roche GP last year, and she’d enjoyed it. She was intrigued by the race for the very young kids. She had casually mentioned that she’d like to do it the next year. We thought it would be fun to see her “race” on her balance bike, fully prepared for this proving to be a fanciful idea of hers that didn’t stand the test of time - a year is a very long time to stick with any idea when you are small. A little over 11 months later and she was now proficient on her pedal bike, her balance bike collecting dust in a corner, she’d been out to the circuit to ride/pedal round part of it, and she’d already pointed out one local stretch of road as being “perfect to practice for the race”. That’s cute, we told ourselves, it’s just an off-hand remark, nothing scary, we haven’t created a monster.
Cue the evening of the race. She had had a big day already, she had spent a few hours that morning in the primary school she’ll be starting in later this year. We expected her to be tired by the evening, maybe going to the race was going to be the last thing on her mind. I arrived home from work to find her already finishing her dinner, dressed in the tiny kids cycling jersey we bought for her several months ago and which hadn’t seen the light of day since. We haven’t created a monster, no no.
All three of were going to cycle together to the race, a journey of about 2km or so. The responsible adults were being encouraged by the small child to “hurry up or we’ll be late for the race”. Perfectly normal… We were running a little late so our daughter motored along on her bike. Eagerness is good, we thought, nothing to fear there. She instigated impromptu mini races along the way, she certainly caught me napping more than once as I had to put in more than a casual effort to catch up with her. That’s normal too …right? We rode on a newly opened stretch of walking/cycling track along the way and she mentioned about it too being perfect to practice for the race. This may have been the point at which it dawned on us that we had, indeed, created a monster. Or, more correctly, this entirely self-motivated monster had created itself.
A confidence crisis as all of the kids were gathered together in one large group before their respective races reminded us that she really is just a 5yr old, and only by a few weeks too. We assumed she got nervous because of the general activity around her and applied parental reassurance involving hugs and verbal reminders that she was okay. Mind you, she did say later that the crisis was because she had seen much older kids around her and felt that this wasn’t fair as they were guaranteed to win the/her race. Hmm, a touch of the ambitious monster again then.
It seemed touch and go whether she’d regain enough confidence to actually do the race. She did. She lined up with the other kids in the novices (5yrs and under) race about 50m from the finish line. She still looked a little nervous, but there she was, tiny and determined. I was really proud of her, she’d come a long way to line up in her first bike race, in more ways than one. I had my camera phone ready to video the race but it went into standby while I waited. When the race started my daughter went from stationery to full sprint in what seemed like a fraction of a second. I was too slow, story of my life really, by the time I started recording she was already passing me at the half-way point, her face the same mask of focused determination that we’d become familiar with seeing as she practiced on her bike each day. She was in the lead. Admittedly several of the other kids in the race were on stabilisers which hindered rather than helped them, but there were a couple of boys without stabilisers and they were giving it socks too.
I yelled encouragement, mentally checking myself before I uttered something that might be frowned upon (I’m not entirely sure, but it’s possible that a shout of “Bury the bastards!” would have been seen as inappropriate). A few metres before the line she stopped pedalling and freewheeled. One of the boys put in an impressive effort and seemed on the verge of passing her out in the final two metres. She rolled over the line just ahead of him though, buffalo took a great photo of her which shows the same slightly impassive but determined facial expression as she took victory as she’d shown from the moment the race started. I wasn’t entirely sure if she realised she’d won, but a few minutes later as I chatted casually to her and congratulated her on the win, she threw both arms in the air and yelled “YESSS!”. She paused, and did it again. It was hilarious and brilliant all in one. I was delighted for her, it was fantastic to see her so proud of her own achievement.
My wife took her off for a victory ice cream, it was well earned. The prizes for the kids events were to be given out during the main race. My wife carried her up onto the trailer to receive her prize, cue another crisis of confidence. The noise and the crowds were a bit too much for her, perfectly understandable. When she calmed down though she was well chuffed with her prize, a Joe Daly Cycles cycling cap that actually suits her very well. She wore it cycling home later.
I have to say thanks a lot to Orwell Cycling Club for staging a great event (there were other races on the night too, other than the novices one like, apparently ). It may just have been instrumental in making cycling events and fun synonymous in my daughter’s mind, but at the very least she really enjoyed herself on the night and the confidence she took from it is evident each time she has climbed on her bike since. And thanks to buffalo too for some great photos which have received the approval of my daughter.
The novices race champ is currently on holiday in the west of Ireland. Though based on the way she is attacking the local hills on her bike, victory cap on her head, it might be better described as a secret training camp. I think she has plans to race again at next year’s Stephen Roche GP. The monster is flourishing0 -
-
rollingscone wrote: »That post made me want to tell my wife about it...but then I'm not allowed to talk to her about cycling any more
I keep bringing up cargo bikes and the like but she is having none of it, what age can you get them on a balance bike?0 -
Advertisement
-
Advertisement