Biked it this morning. No faffing, straight out the door. Had cycled yesterday too and got caught in hailstorm but well up for it this morning and for some reason I always feel better on the second da. Caught and passed a boy on Ferry Toll Road. Up onto bridge, nice queues of traffic to go past. Beautiful morning, a big warm orange sun rising behind the rail bridge, cracking. Other end of the bridge I’d got a bit warm so thought I’d stop at Shell to take my jacket off. Really enjoying it today. Jacket off, strapped to crossbar in double quick time. Off I set again… Wait a minute… Something thudding as soon as I move. Punctured back tyre. Och! Not to worry, usually takes me 10 – 15 mins to change tube or stick a patch on, will still be in work before 8. Remove light and computer from handlebars, flip over, unzip saddlebag – empty. I had removed everything at the weekend when I was fitting my new wheels and hadn’t put it back. Aargh! So what to do? Wait for another cyclist? Try the garage for a repair kit? Head to folks? Decided to hobble round to folks (in cleats). 15 seconds after going down the path I see about 4 cyclists go past, just out of sight and earshot of me. Oh well. Head across the playpark at the motel. Another zips down the path as I hobble through the dogshit. Get to parents and ring the bell. No answer. Try again, and again and again. 5 minutes elapse. I decide to phone them. My Dad answers straight away as if he’s been up for hours. “Dad I’m at the front door”. “oh right”. I ask if he has any patches or tubes – “nup”. So my Mum comes down the stairs and gives me her car. Thank God for Maws eh? Got to work too late to get a parking space so had to park in Gyle Mains and hobble over to work still in my cleats and get a shower there. I’m off to give blood at 10am half-expecting to rupture a vein.