So it’s Movember, the month when we are all encouraged to grow a moustache to raise awareness of prostate cancer. I have an added incentive to join in this year as my good friend Simon was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer. Mercifully they caught it early and he seems to be on the mend.
So once the calendar clicked over to 1 November, my razor was given a month off and we sat and waited. When I think moustache I think Windsor Davies, Frank Zappa or Errol Flynn. What actually began to emerge was more like a caterpillar. Actually an undernourished caterpillar with a hair-loss condition.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. I can barely bring myself to write the words to describe what I discovered next……..IT WAS GINGER. My moustache came out ginger. How did that happen? I have brown hair. My father and mother had brown hair. My sister has brown hair. Ginger is not a concept that has troubled our gene pool.
I have a decision to make. So far I have hidden the early ginger scrap of a moustache from the public. I haven’t had to go to the office this week and have been working at home. But tomorrow I have a fairly grown up and important meeting with some people I don’t know well. I don’t think there is any room on the agenda for caterpillars and ginger moustaches. So the fate of my emerging tash will be decided in the early hours.
In other news I did my first winter session on the turbo today – the cycling equivalent of a treadmill. A solid hour of hard work. A lot of cyclists scoff at turbo training but I love it. If the choice is between being out in the dark on a cold, wet, windy autumn evening or being ensconced in my warm cellar with the lights on and music blaring as I stamp on the pedals to Eminem then that is one of the easier decisions I will make this week. The harder one awaits me at the shaving mirror in the morning.