Turning

No beer jobs today, apart from checking in to make sure that all that should be bubbling and burbling was and to run some cleaner through the pipes and chiller.  So it was mainly a day in the garden with a bit of hedge trimming and a light pruning of the bay tree. I say light pruning but it was more a cutting arbitrarily like a parent who doesn’t want to go to the expense of a full haircut trimming a child's fringe. It'll grow back. 

After that, I thought I’d take a wee ride on my bike, which has been unmolested since I stopped riding it to work. Actually, according to Strava, my last recorded bike ride was on 21 March, long before work stopped. Not sure what happened after that. Easter holidays? Not sure why I stopped or what stopped me.

But having stripped the commuter bike back to its frame, cleaned and replaced most of the components, it seemed like time to take the thing out and get the legs turning again. Having decided to go, I then had to find all the stuff. Shoes under the stairs with a layer of dust and dog hair. Gloves upstairs, breeks buried under a pile of clean clothes, and the wee jacket lost under the four other jackets more recently worn. 

It’s best to start these things with low expectations, over-estimating how much fitness has been lost in five months and heading out into a stiff westerly breeze helps provide an excuse for the low speed and the heavy legs. But the bike felt great. Nice and light now that all the commuting bits have been stripped off. So, a nice round 10 (point six) miles that didn’t feel too bad. Nice to feel muscle being used again and there was a nice little bit of drizzle in the breeze to remind you it’s Scotland. We’ll see how it feels tomorrow. They say you never forget how to ride a bike but you can forget why.