Word with Willy: Pears

My explanation was feeble, and I knew it. I felt like a dog trying to explain a freshly chewed shoe to its owner. I was at the swimming pool, not 12 hours after I had promised to bring in a Garmin running watch belonging to the Queensland Academy of Sport, so they could give me a different one to use instead. I had not forgotten about the watch, I’d very deliberately put it in my kit bag to bring the next morning, yet I had no watch with me now. Thus my response to “Have you got that watch?” was a feeble, “No… I remembered it…but it’s not here.” Aware it sounded like I was talking absolute bollocks, I attempted to add clarity to the situation by adding: “It’s been a weird morning – I can’t find that Garmin, and I’m missing two pears…”

It had indeed been a weird morning, and my missing watch and fruit was but a thread in a rich tapestry of confusion. I had arisen hours earlier out of the altitude tent I was sleeping in, with firm intentions to ride my bike to the pool for training. Almost immediately, I noticed the missing pears. This struck me as odd. I knew, with 100% certainty, that the night before I had placed 2 Packham pears on my bag to snack on after training. The absurdity of the situation befuddled me – where the hell could they be? The only hypothesis I could come up with that had a skerrick of rationality was that my landlady’s son had come home late after a night out (not strange), used my downstairs back door to enter the house (a little bit strange), seen the pears, and identified them as a great late night snack food and absconded with them (utterly absurd).

At this stage I was slightly ruffled, but there was more to come. Rifling through my bag in search of the fruit had lead me to discover that my bag was not only bereft of Packhams, but also the Garmin. Increasingly bewildered, I searched up and down for the Garmin to no avail. My thoughts turned again to the landlady’s son. He was a peculiar gentleman to say the least, and had once pinched my arm-warmers off the washing line to play basketball in, Lebron style. Even this was a stretch for him though, who comes home after a big night and heads out for a run?

By this time it was getting too late for me to ride to swimming and still get there in time, so I decided to drive. Besides, I was starting to think I was losing my mind, and could use a little sit down. However, the morning’s trend started again when I could not find my car keys anywhere. Furthermore, whilst looking for the keys, I noticed I couldn’t see my bike shoes anywhere either. At this stage, my thoughts turned from my landlady’s son, to burglary. I was incredulous, my bag was sitting next to a $15 000 bike, surely that would take priority over a few pears and a Garmin? Or was this some kind of othorexic thief, turned to a life of crime by their insatiable desire for healthy foods and running aids?

Feeling like Commissioner Gordon being harassed by a pear-mad super-villain, I grabbed my spare car key and drove to swimming. I realised my bike shoes had been in the car the whole time, which made me doubt everything. When I got to swimming, I gave my pathetically vague excuse for my missing Garmin, and sent the landlady a message asking if anything strange was going on in the house. After a 5km swim session featuring constant heckling about my concern over missing fruit, I checked my phone, and upon reading a message from my landlady, everything became clear. Thieves had hit our street. One can only assume, that the burglar, upon entering a house featuring a strange machine hooked up with tubes to an indoor tent, was that weirded out, that instead of taking thousands of dollars of bike equipment, they took some fruit, a Garmin, and the car keys to my Fiesta. Presumably they wanted to check the car for apples.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dan Wilson

Biomechanically denied his dream of becoming an NBA superstar, Dan Wilson has been racing the ITU circuit for over seven years representing Australia at Junior, U/23 and Elite level. His results have ranged from winning a World Cup to finishing only with the aid of glow sticks. When not “at work” training three times a day, he incompetently plays the guitar, competently sips short blacks, and fervently studies the underground metal scene.
Follow Dan at www.danwilson.com.au
Twitter: @dan_wilson_

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