You never forget, do you? It’s like riding a bike. Just what is it exactly about the simple pleasure of propelling oneself forward, balanced on two wheels? Maybe it’s a childhood thing, that feeling of conquering the apparent improbability of it all and finally shedding the stabilisers. The gradual transformation from initial shaky instability to graceful competence is one that makes us feel that we can achieve anything.
For many though, as time passes and our responsibilities increase in proportion to our intolerance of fairground rides and our ability to feel natural on a dancefloor, we become all grown up and rely on motor vehicles for everything, often leaving the bikes to gather dust in the garage. Sound familiar?
Fast forward 10 – 15 years and you may have found, like me, that you were approaching forty feeling very sluggish and a bit overweight.
Well, that’s how it was for me just over a year ago, and it was time to act. A sort of mid life crisis attempt to get back in shape still feel in control of things.
I had a half decent mountain bike, albeit about 15 years old, and took off to the hills. I devised a hilly little circuit of about 9 miles and went out there maybe two or three times a week. It was hard going at first and painfully slow (literally).
But to cut a long story short, I’ve become hooked on cycling.
In the last 6 months I’ve bought a new road bike via the cycle to work scheme, probably cycled well over a thousand miles and absurdly, entered the Etape Cymru event – 100 miles of Welsh hilliness.
If someone had told me two years ago that I would have felt confident enough to even think about such an event, I’d have dismissed them outright. At the time of writing this, the event is just one day away.
If I survive it, I’ll blog something about it later.
Image by Stuart Herbert, adapted under a Creative Commons license
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