Going for gold

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I KNOW I’m not the only working woman suffering from exhaustion lately.

But I’ve got a sneaking suspicion I’m one of the few who cannot blame Fifty Shades of Grey for her sleepless nights.

Like readers of that book though, I have an obsession.

I’ll give you a clue - it involves men in lycra riding phenomenal distances through a most beautiful European country.

It also involves very late nights.

That’s right; I’m a cycling nerd.

And the Tour de France is one of the few sporting events I look forward to every year.

My friends don’t understand me.

Clearly I’m not the sporty type.

The last time I rode a bike myself was when I was about 10.

And that was to the local deli to buy mixed lollies.

No, I will never take line honours in a cycling race.

But oh how I love to watch others grab the glory in the final stages of a gruelling road race I can only describe as thrilling.

Thanks to the best commentators ever, I can wax lyrical for hours – literally – on the chances the breakaway group will outlast the peleton, the staying power of the sprinters once they hit the mountain stages and the benefits of Power Gel as the riders go through the ‘feed zone’.

It’s enough to make a girl want to take up professional cycling… almost.

My other favourite sporting event is coming up soon, too.

And by the end of the Olympics I can assure you my annual cycling craze will be over and I will have signed up for gymnastics classes and changed my name to a Russian variation in the hope of Olympic glory.

Don’t worry, though. It won’t last.

After the Olympics there’s the AFL grand final.

And if you’ve never seen me in footy shorts kicking a Sherrin around Rushton Park, well, just you wait.

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