Second attempt Day 70

If a worker bee hatches in the summer in southern Spain he can expect only a few weeks buzzing around the Andalucian countryside. The poor thing literally works himself to death in the heat in around 5 weeks. If he is 'lucky' enough to hatch in the spring though, he can double his workload and can expect his life expectancy from egg to 'death by exhaustion' to be around 10 weeks. 

During a recent bike tour a few weeks ago I stopped in the town of Colmenar, north of Malaga, a beautiful little pueblo high in the mountains. I booked a hotel there, ended the day early and walked around the town for a good nosey. Colmenar translates to 'beehive' and I soon found out why. It is famous in Spain for producing honey -  probably the most sensational wildflower honey I have ever tried I thought - very quickly thereafter it became the most sensational wildflower honey I have ever bought. 

A worker bee that hatched 70 days ago up there is probably now ending his existence on the planet, and probably very grateful he is too to put his 6 feet up for good. He has done his bit for his queen and community and although he didn't know it, ensured that the good people of Andalucia did not run short of this glorious nectar at their breakfast tables. In that same worker bee lifespan I've been constantly sober. 

Yes it's day 70. Weighing in 8 pounds lighter. A resting heart rate down from 55 to 46 bpm (although that could be down to the special properties of Colmenar honey). £400 richer purely from avoided pub purchases - let alone all the knock on effects of big nights out like free spending, meals, bottles of wine, drinks at home, late night kebabs or curries, excessive hangover foods the next day and just general stupidity - so at least £1400 richer. Three bike tours completed in the UK and Spain due to massively increased activity and fitness levels, and not a single mishap along the way - boy, a lot has happened since that bee hatched.

Removing just one variable from my life has increased the sum of my existence so much. Without doubt this is the most important and rewarding life change I have ever experienced. I am totally in control of my own destiny, clearer on my life objectives and making every moment count as if it were my last. 

Packing starts today - we are heading back to Spain for a long spell of sunshine having got the UK place ship shape for the coming Spring. A short bike tour to Stone in Staffordshire and back over the weekend proved to be a lovely distraction from the changeable UK weather and got me in the mood for a return to cycling in the Spanish mountains. I head over to Stone every few months or so, to chill out at a B&B, procure some new clothes, get a hair cut and eat at a lovely Italian restaurant there. Stone is also famous for its beer.  It is surrounded by brewing history, but this time, for the first time I managed to avoid the real ale temptations in each of the old pubs in the town centre and stuck to soft drinks. This assured the return cycle leg, rather than throwing the bike into the back of Rachel's car after a big Stone night out. 

On the way back from Stone I was thinking about the bees. They are pretty awesome creatures. They just get on with their duties without bothering anybody or complaining. They basically sacrifice themselves for a common good. Whilst they are getting on with that, we see atrocities every day on the news, power crazed humans killing humans, to what end?  It doesn't stop the bee. He doesn't have any time to waste on such nonsense. He only has 70 days to cram in as much giving as he possibly can. In these terrible times I found that thought quite comforting. 

Maybe I should break my life down into 70 day chunks I pondered in honour of the Andalucian honey bee. 70 days to cram in as much life as you can. No, to cram in as much good as you can. The last 70 days have been all about me I thought. You turned your life around, with great support from those around you. You shouted it out loudly to all and sundry. But the next 70 need to be slightly different. I'm in a great place and I'm in a good position to now refocus on a common good.  

A new egg has hatched.