YOU'RE leaving at 8AM.

I like it when Jesús organizes outings, because it's clear and precise: We're leaving at this time and we're gonna do this and them's the breaks. AO, on the other hand -- there is just no nice way to say this -- is an unmitigated disaster.

We're meeting at 8AM, he says, even though the sun didn't come up until 8:25 and leaving at 8:00 means having to ride though several questionable areas (both in terms of road quality and safety) in the dark. AO, we say, do you really think that that's such a hot idea? We're meeting at 8AM, he says, because that way those who want to do 100 kilometres and those who want to do 120 kilometres can be home before lunchtime. So does that mean that you haven't specifically picked a route, then? We're leaving at 8AM, he says.

I don't really mind AO all that much, but he strikes me as a very...well, Canadian...Spaniard, in a way. He's so busy trying to find a middle ground to make everybody happy that he doesn't realize that his vacillating pisses everyone off to no end. He'll yammer on about the importance of taking yourself seriously as a cyclist, yet show up looking like a Hobbit or an art student, in baggy pants gathered round the ankle with a big elastic band or metal clip, a windbreaker that's big enough to hold his wife and both daughters. When the wind picks up, you don't have to look at where he is in the pace line: you can hear him twenty metres away, flap flap flap.... A couple of months ago, he was doing the climb up the Cerro de San Pedro and got smoked by a bunch of guys from SanSe, who made fun of the clothes he was wearing. He was indignant as hell. None of us were surprised: Well, what does he expect, if he goes out riding looking like a Bosnian refugee?

It may be a uniquely Anglo-Saxon hangup (or maybe I'm just really, really being a girl, here) but appearances count. If you don't have enough self-esteem or pride to kit yourself out well (and don't talk to me about money, the guy's a federal civil servant and makes good coin), you're gonna have to expect that people are going to think that you're not taking this seriously.

And I know why he was so uptight about leaving at 8AM. Gloria, his co-habitant (as he romantically calls her) is continually referred to in his e-mails as the person with whom he must negotiate time. You coming to Bilbao with us or not? I haven't consulted with Gloria. You going out on Saturday? I haven't asked Gloria.

I haven't met Gloria, but frankly, if she's like a lot of Spanish housewives I know, she would probably be thankful to have him out from under her feet and doing something regularly that doesn't involve a Lazy Boy, a six-pack of Estrella Galicia and the remote control. Gloria, I suspect, is being used as a convenient excuse to get some cycling in because AO hasn't really sat down with her and said, look, this is important to me and I know it's hard with two kids, but I'm willing to negotiate and make this work. I don't think Gloria has him on a short leash at home by any means. Dollars to doughnuts, AO just kind of sneaks out whenever he thinks he can get a couple of hours in, just enough that he's not missed, but not enough that she starts thinking he's having an affair or something.

So if he wants to leave at 8AM and drag the rest of them with him, good luck to him. It's freezing out there and the road to San Martín is not the best - it's busy, full of broken glass and garbage and God knows what else. I may be crazy enough to ride in snow, but I'm not so desperate for a ride that I'll go out somewhere that's hazardous if you can't see where you're going.