On the road again...

...I can't wait to be on the road again…

I used to cycle quite a lot. In London it was my transport of choice - more reliable than the tube, often faster than buses, and free! I used to cycle to uni, and to various hospitals for placements. I enjoyed it. Battled through the winter weather, gloried in the brief summer sunshine. But it was only ever to get from A to B. Which meant a couple of things
1) I would always have a rucksack full of the stuff I'd need when I got to B. Namely a change of clothes, and some food.
2) I would be trying to get there as quickly as possible. Cycling in London amongst the commuting pack turns the journey into a quietly deeply competitive race. Surely with everyone going about their own private cycles and concentrating on not getting hit by cars/buses/lorries/crazy van drivers/seemingly blind pedestrians you can't really race? Think again. There's a whole system of points out there, and trust me, it rings true.


But since I moved further out of London, the distance from A to B has been too great to make cycling worth it. Time is money, and now the train works out cheaper. So my lovely bike has sad forlornly in our spare room, the tires slowly flattening.

Until this weekend! Since this year will be the year of the triathlon, it was high time I got on the bike. Spinning each week, while great for shedding some water weight, is still no match for getting out there. My sister and her boyfriend have always been a bit more into cycling for the sheer pleasure of going for a ride, and I'd been meaning to visit them in their newish house, so I wrestled my bike onto the trains and went for some triathlon training.

As my first bike ride for pleasure I got to discover the world of cycling jerseys. With no rucksack it turns out a jersey is a necessity for the pockets. Also, cool colours. Somebody hide my bank card..

So it was a slow 35km ride around the countryside. There were about 2 hills. It was glorious. The sun was shining on a beautiful spring morning, and being fairly early on a Sunday we saw more fellow cyclists than cars pretty much. Without traffic and traffic lights and bus stops and crossings the cycling was flowing and constant. Legs could get into a rhythm. The air was fresh in the lungs. Everything felt right in the world. It was wonderful.

And I can't wait to do it again. Especially since I had to leave my bike there as the Sunday trains were playing silly buggers.