Uphill

Any day now, I’m going to resume cycling to work. Aaaany day now.

It’s difficult to overcome the inertia that has accumulated since mid-November. I know how much I will enjoy the cycling, once I finally pull myself together and do it, but I don’t want to commit to the 10 mile round trip until I’ve been out for a brief ride to check that (a) it’s not bollock-shatteringly cold and (b) the bike hasn’t suffered some catastrophic failure over the winter, for instance, mice knawing through the brake cables. Right now, I’m failing to escape the draw of the cosy warm automobile.

I’ve got gloves. Bernard bought them for me for Christmas, and I’ve only had one or two opportunities to use them so far. Instead of wearing a pair of crumbling wool gloves (which have acquired holes at the tips of the fingers, and are probably destined for the bin) I’ll be wearing a proper pair of cycling gloves, with textured palms that allow me to actually operate that bloody twist-grip gear change system when it’s raining, instead of having to give up and ride home in whatever gear I’ve found myself in.

There’s more light right now than there was when I packed the bike away in November. The sunset was at about 4pm then, and it’s at nearly 6pm now (and at the end of the month, it will be at 7:30pm, of course). So light is no excuse.

Cold and wet, however, are. Oh, and laziness. Don’t forget the laziness.