You know what that means, don’t you? Yes! I cycled in today! I was tired anyway from working at the weekend and this didn’t help with that – I am now in a slothlike torpor and I have to cycle 9 miles home in about two hours.
But! I did it. And I wasn’t too disastrously slow either. Not nippy either, mind you – about 10 people passed me on a hill (well, I say hill - but I don’t think it would even register as such with Lesley (I’ve seen her hills!)). Luckily I don’t have the gene that requires me to try and engage everyone in a race (not being a bloke with a small penis).
I was so focussed on not chickening out of cycling this morning that I completely forgot to consult SoD. So I’ve had to enter in my weight in the WW online gizmo with the reading from my mum’s SoD (Chubby.11). My fear is that my mum’s SoD is more benevolent (if no less capricious) and next week I might have a nasty shock (no loss or even – gulp – a gain (albeit an artificial one)). I am trying to steel myself against that prospect to face it with zen-like calm. No, I don't believe it's possible either.
Tomorrow and Friday I’m going to try and haul myself out of bed in time to get off the tube and walk the last 2 miles in to work. In painful boots, if you please! And the damp weather trashes my hair. I better get some payback for that heroism. And I may be able to squeeze a little walk in on either Saturday afternoon, post lunch, or Sunday morning, weather, time and bf willing.
Next weeks exercise aim – cycle twice.