Gaby Book 16 - Sweet Sixteen

 
 
When I got home there was a packet waiting for me, the postmark was Worksop, I wonder who’s sending me stuff? I’ve had presents and stuff from everyone, I’m sure I did. Opening would have to wait, my jeans, despite dripping all day were still sodden and this flippin’ skirt didn’t offer much protection on the ride home – a shower and warm clothes first.

The house was strangely quiet, Gran was out with Mum, Dad was doing stuff with George in the office today and the others wouldn’t be home for a while yet. I luxuriated under the water for a bit too long, I was starting to prune by the time I finished. Monday, cheer practice, I guess I should dress for that; I can layer up a bit for warmth after all.

Back in the kitchen I made a brew and opened the package – ah, the stuff from Miss Cowlishaw, I’d forgotten about that. There was a stack of photocopied pages with a note pinned to the top.

Dear Gaby,
As promised find enclosed the new moves we talked about, I was going to email them but it was simpler just to copy and post them. They are graded for difficulty and I’ve added a few notes that you might find useful in teaching your girls how to do them.
Let me know you’ve got the notes and of course drop me a line if you have any questions.
Have fun,
Fran

I flicked through the pages, I recognised some of the moves, others were new to me – of course it’s been a couple of years since I left the Foresters after that to do in America. My mind flicked back to that day in Fairfax…
“And in first place with a most innovative set, all the way from England, The Sure-wood Foresters!”
Em and Ally were doing a jig already.
“Come on girls, shake a leg.” Miss C beamed, “let’s show ‘em how it's done”

We must have some sort of ESP as we lined up and made our entrance to huge applause and cheering. How did Miss C know? Despite trying to stay professional I couldn't help my face breaking into a cheesy grin as we were presented with the ridiculous trophy. It was a bit like Eurovision, the winners all got to reprise their performance, the familiar tones of our backing track started up and we got to repeat our performance.

It all came back, the moves, the cheering, the final drop into the splits and yeah, that daft trophy. I enjoyed my time with the Foresters but in the end, well bikes and the move here put paid to things. Flicking through the pages, I started to put a programme together in my head – okay the Ahr All Stars might not be brilliant at the moment but who knows what’ll happen in the future.

“Gaby?” Dad called from the office, “A minute.”
What have I done now? “Coming.”
I put my notes down and joined pater.
“Sit down, kiddo.”
Ot oh, not good.
“I’ve been with George most of the day, we’ve been looking at the programme up to Easter.”
“Right.” I allowed.
“We both agree that it’s time for us, as a team to up our horizons, the Junge Cup is okay as far as it goes but we’d like to move on. The guys at BC are keen to back us in these ambitions, experience breeds success eh?”
“Er sure.”
“We’ll be looking to join the European Junior series, events like the junior classics.”
“Kewl!”
“But we have a problem.”
“Oh?”
“You.”
“Me? How?”
“Well the European series are much stricter with who rides what, they segregate the events tightly.”
I think I could see where this was going, “Kay.”
“So question is, do you ride with the lads or the girls?”
“The lads of course,” I enthused.
“Don’t be so hasty.”
“But I’ve been beating the boys,” I pointed out.
“I know but there’s a catch, if you are signed up to the lad’s series that’s it, no going back, you are committed for the series.”
“And?”
“Well if you can’t compete on their level that’s it, sink or swim.”
“It sounds like there’s a plan B?”
“We could put you in the girls’ series, the top ten riders can opt to ride the lad’s events, if it doesn’t workout you can return to the girls’ events.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad, what about Ron and the others?”
“Same thing, I wanted to run it by you first, give you the option. It doesn’t affect the domestic events or even all the internationals, well you rode Switzerland which is mixed.”
“So like, how do we get in the top ten?”
“The UCI have a ranking committee, George has spoken with them, you and Ron are already in as is that Swiss girl.”
“So I can ride the lad’s events anyway?”
“As long as you keep that ranking.”
“No probs,” I replied with enthusiasm.
“That’s sorted then, I suppose you want a lift to the Tanzklub?”
“Plee-ase.”
“Ten minutes.”

“So let me get this right,” Mand paused, “if you enter the lad’s series they consider you as a boy full stop but girls.”
“Some,” I interrupted.
“Some girls,” she confirmed, “can ride the lad’s event or the girls’?”
“Just about sums it up,” I agreed as I finished tying my laces.
“Well I won’t be troubling the lads, will I?”
“You never know and we’ll still be riding mixed events here in Germany.”
“It’s a bit of a double standard though,” she pointed out.
“I guess,” I allowed. I hadn’t really looked at things beyond what it means to me.

“And one and two aaaand stop!” Hannah cut the tape, “hold it and… relax.”

I wasn’t the only one puffing a bit after running through our start up programme. Next week we’ll start working on some of the moves from Miss Cowli, I mean Fran’s sheets. Everyone seemed to be enthused by the prospect of the competition – even those not currently in the main squad.

“Well done girls,” Hannah told us, “Gab?”
“Yeah, good session everyone,” I gasped a deep lungful of air, “we need to tighten up the landings a bit but practice makes perfect.”
“Okay then, I’ll see the Garde on Friday, the rest of you next week,” Hannah concluded.

“We seem to be progressing,” Hannah supplied during our debrief.
“We’ll try some of Fran’s new moves next week.”
“Thank her for us, she seems a good sort.”
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed.
“You coming Friday, you looked a bit stiff tonight.”
“Horse riding.”
“I didn’t know you rode.”
“We were at a friend’s for New Year, they ride so we did too, my bum still feels bruised.”
“A long, hot bath – works wonders,” she suggested.
“Might try that.”

We might have got out of bike training yesterday but not today. School was less traumatic than yesterday – well I didn’t end up wearing a stupid short skirt. Anyhow the continuing damp – combined with it being January meant that for me and Mand training was on the turbo’s in the garage.

I might’ve mentioned that I hate static trainers but sometimes they have their uses like today. I have to go to the clinic tomorrow to be signed off as fit so my return to training is a little pre-emptive. The noise is silly, Caroline suggested listening to music with headphones – maybe I’ll have to buy some this weekend.

Thankfully it was an endurance session so after warming up it was pretty much forty minutes of constant ninety percent effort ending with a ramping up of effort before warming down. BC want us to use heart rate monitors, you won’t believe how difficult it is to stay in your training zone – I had to ease off a couple of times as I’d subconsciously upped my effort. Of course the other issue with indoor training is heat, when you are outside you are cooled by passing air but not in our garage.

Even stripping to bra and bib shorts, with the fan going we were soon leaking salty water onto the floor. By the end of the session we were drenched, our clothing a soggy mess.

“So how was it?” Mum asked when I returned from my eyrie.
“I hate turbo sessions.”
“Better than being out in the wet.”
“Only just,” I grunted.
“I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow, we can do some shopping before your appointment.”
“What about my bike?”
“It’ll go on the rack.”
“’Kay,” I agreed.

“Don’t plan anything Saturday,” Dad instructed as I cleared my breakfast stuff away.
“I’m supposed to be working.”
“That’s fine.”
“Why?”
“We’re taking your Gran out, I’ve got a table booked at the schloss.”
“I suppose it’s posh frocks?”
“What do you think?”
“’Kay, what time’s her flight?”
“Not till six, your Mum suggested Sunday lunch then a leisurely ride to the airport.”
“I suppose I’m cooking then,” I mused.
“I’m sure it won’t just be you.”
“Maybe, it’ll seem weird with her not here.”
“You miss her don’t you?”
“A lot, I know we didn’t see her a lot but she was only a couple of hours away, now it’s a flight and like half a day.”
“You can phone her.”
”It’s not the same though.”
No it’s not the same, you can’t cuddle, it’s impersonal, yes you can talk but it’s not the same as being there.

The weather was still miserable, miserable but not for now at least actually raining.
“We still going to the costume thing?” Bridg queried.
“I’m in,” I told the gang.
“Suppose we need costumes,” Pia suggested.
“There supposed to be a theme?” Con enquired.
“Think so,” Steff mentioned, “I’ll look on the website later.”
“Hope it’s nothing too fancy,” Nena put in.
“We can get Anna on board,” I suggested.

Maddy Bell 03.05.16