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View Out My Window

I saw a DeLorean DMC-12 in Mitte, near Bodemuseum today. All brushed stainless steel and fat typography on its arse. Looks way more serious in real life than photos, kinda like when I first saw an F40. That would be my German Whip of all time. Forgot phone though. Instead, here’s a view out my window. I took the day off. Two lunches, several episodes of The Man in the High Castle (turned the volume way down when they went on a “Sieg Heil” bender; really, really uncomfortable viewing in Berlin in 2018), much chatting with Gala (who was doing similar), no riding, no work, no ticking off shite on a list, just having a quiet, sunny and warm, lazy autumn day in my apartment.

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Körnerpark Neukölln

Autumn wander with Charlotte through parts of southern Neukölln I’ve never been to before. Körnerpark, former 19th century gravel pit pretending to be 17th century Schlossgarten, and a Migration Period grave of a horse rider. Berlin, still turning it on like a hard lover.

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Mathew Hayman

Watching Mat Hayman riding and winning Paris–Roubaix in 2016 was probably the moment I truly fell in love with the Spring Classics, pavé, dust, mud, cobbles, suffering, and went from cyclocross to a different kind of riding. Really one of my favourite riders in the peloton, and my favourite team.

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German Whip: Austin 7 EA Sports Ulster

Seen on the corner of Tellstr. and Weserstr. with the red Toyota Supra with the massive spoiler in the background. I’m not usually a pre-WWII car fangirl, but this whip smelt of maximum hill climb and thrashage. “Who told you that I got rusty? Draw for the WD-40.”

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Sprint Intervals

Each 10-minute-ish lap of Tempelhofer Feld: shove in an aero position into a 20km/h headwind for medium amounts of discomfort along the southern section of the airport; on the west and north, sprint ten times in 10 second blocks of increasing intensity with 20 second not-slacking-off pace in-between; wonder if I will ever feel love again by the end of that, recover for the eastern section and do it all again. Four times. It’s not so much about absolute speed at the moment (though faster is nicer, and I’d love to be doing this on a road bike rather than my cyclocross bike) as it is about mental and emotional discipline to handle what is frankly unpleasant, and which I really, really want to bail out of every time. Physiologically, I’m not sure what it does, but I find I notice if I don’t make it one of my core training sessions. On the eighth sprint on one session my brain went “Hard No,” pulled the red Emergency Stop handle, which in retrospect, looking at my heart hitting 193bpm seemed to be a pretty sensible and clear message.

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Approximating Hill Climbs

Finding new ways to enjoy suffering. This one is mostly “ugh.” Long, intense session training, out of the saddle, over-gearing (as much as possible on a cyclocross compact chainset) for an entire lap of Tempelhofer Feld. Recover for a lap and repeat. After, I found blisters on my thumbs from rubbing against the metal pins on the shifters. The data from my heart rate monitor and speed make their own series of hills and valleys, ascents and descents.

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Jacqueline Pearce

She will always be Servalan to me, Supreme Commander Servalan of the Terran Federation, eternal foe of Blake’s 7, Avon’s nemesis, best-dressed interstellar dictator four seasons running, the woman I wanted to grow up to be.

“a tasteless megalomaniac,” “a credit to her background – spoilt, idle, vicious,” “any attempt to embarrass her personally is an exercise in total futility,” “she has all the sensitive delicacy of a plasma bolt,” “the sexiest officer I have ever known.”