Sunday, 19 September 2010

The birth of Yoghurt Girl

Cecilia & myself set of on a journey to Peaslake from Dorking station. We got a bit lost and were going down a narrow single track with long growing stinging nettles on both sides. At the bottom of this I came to a fork, on the left the stinging nettles were cut down and on the right the stinging nettles were still growing high. My hesitation in making a decision resulted in falling to my right hand side straight into the stinging nettles.

It was burning and itching like crazy. We didn't know what to do and bumped into two guys that recommended dock leave. I tried it, but in retrospect didn't rub it in good enough.

We continued looking for Peaslake and eventually got there. I bought paracetamol straight away and Cecilia suggested that maybe natural yoghurt will be a natural cure.

I was sitting in Peaslake 'Square' slapping on thick yoghurt to try and cover my scars. The coolness of the yoghurt did bring some sort of relief - thankfully.

Whilst I was doing that a man came up to me and asked if he can take a picture of me. I couldn't refuse and smiled for the camera along with my lovely white yoghurt covered leg.

I got cold shivers and experienced some stinging as we continued on our ride. Not pleasant at all.

It was hard to sit still in church on Sunday evening and trying to sleep with yoghurt on your leg proofs to be a calamity. On Monday morning my colleagues advised me to the pharmacy, so I walked the walk of shame in my LBD and yoghurt covered leg to Boots. This pharmacist had no idea how to help me and just repeated to me you must have an allergic reaction to something. I KNEW that, I fell in stinging nettles, I knew what happened, I just needed a cure. No help whatsoever so I came back to the office.

Our IT-guy Kenny popped into the office and I told him what happened. He said try vinegar. Desperate as I was I went to the kitchen and found balsamic vinegar and slapped some on. You can imagine by now I smelled like a fish & chip shop, but I didn't care. It worked!!! I finally felt some relief of the stinging.

About 2 months later a big group of us went riding and on our way back this car stopped next to me in the car park. This man, Richard, said to me, "Hallo Yoghurt Girl." I looked at him bewildered and very embarrassed as I realised he was the one who took the photo of me when I fell in the stinging nettles. He told me to look at their blogpost and I repeated their blogname like a parrot. D-I-A-R-Y O-F A M-O-U-N-T-A-I-N-B-I-K-E-R.C-O-M

This is what I found! Look at the 3rd entry in September 2010 to see the hyperlink to Yoghurt Girl.

Meet Yoghurt Girl, it is I. #soshy

I've come to terms with the fact that a certain circle of people knows me as Yoghurt Girl. As I've said, I love meeting people, so I've made peace with how I met these guys. We greet each other, even follow each other on Strava and I'm still getting a mention or even a photo whenever they see me on the trails.

 Place of accident - somewhere near Peaslake

Dog leave Advise from these 2 strangers

Mmm Yoghurt Girl