58 days to go

I like to ride my bicycle, I like to ride my bike.

Well, I don’t, not since I had it stolen from Brighton station. And by ‘stolen’ I suspect I mean ‘removed by station staff after I decided to informally store it there'. Well you can walk everywhere in Brighton, so after I moved from London and my daily death run through the City during the morning rush hour, I had no immediate need for it.

Since we went to Wales and our attempt to use our bodies as human sponges to keep rain from the delicate slopes of Snowdon, we’ve had more mountain chums on Facebook. And more mountain chums means more exposure to what everyone else is doing training-wise.

Since the pre-mountain hot tub I have been doing more swimming, but that makes my hairdresser angry, angry, angry, despite the lovely swimming hat. And I don’t know what Zumba is, so I won’t be doing that (I also find it impossible to commit to classes at the gym. Particularly classes in front of a mirrored wall - never happened in French GCSE).

Cycling seems to be a theme though and, what with all the staycationing and people finding ways to enjoy the rich and varied countryside of the UK now they can’t got to Disney World, there are cheap bicycles available aplenty.

I’ve been in two minds about getting a bicycle - one mind which was sure it would be good for the endurance training, the other which was concerned about getting smeared across the nearest central reservation.

The answer to this is a cycle helmet, I realise this. The dilemma is similar to the reasons why so many people have dreadlocks for so long - you know where it’s going to end up and that look only worked for Sinead O’Connor.

The clincher was that, when I look on my CV, it doesn’t say ‘Page 3 model’ or even ‘optometry model’. I need the contents of my skull to work and thus feed Satan’s Animal and pay the hairdresser. I tried to avoid the worst aerodynamic multi-vent options and get a skateboard helmet, but it’s really two sides of the same hair consequence.

As a distraction, I got the most festive bike there is - and a week before Pride in Brighton. I may be able to make the money back by renting it out as a float.

What we have learned:
The temptation to become a bike path fascist is strong

Boot update:
The one place on earth they don’t work. That or the cycling terrain in the kitchen is not optimal.