Help satisfy my sudden bike obesession with a picture of your own pride and joy.

Email a snap to sbailey@guardiangrp.co.uk and I'll post it here in a future blog.

Your help is urgently needed.

I've got a little stack of bike brochures that I read and compare endlessly.

I'm like a 15-year-old with a stash of Escorts and Razzles.

I bought Cycling Weekly the other day. Cycling Weekly! Eight weeks ago I could barely lift my leg over the frame.

And there's something about the statistics of bikes that appeals to the inner geek in me, and I supsect, in every man.

I can't remember Leibniz's proof of God from my philosophy lectures, but I can tell you the shell weight of a Sherman firefly tank (17 pounds).

With bicycles I can now tell you about groupsets, Mavic Askium Wheels, 7005 aluminium frames and carbon forks.

Of course the real world is another matter.

I tried to adjust my rear gears yesterday. It simply resulted in me coating myself in grease for five minutes then giving up.

I read a description of what I should do in a cycling book, but it was no good.

It was like waking up the morning after the Bush/John Kerry election. Baffling.

P.S. British Eagle man overtook again on the way home the other day, and he did the spitting thing again. This means war...