… and yesterday I learned that I don’t much like mountain biking. I can see the attraction, and I even did think when I agreed to give it a go that it might be fun – a thought which lasted up to, but not including, my first encounter with a drop-off. And then the part of my brain which is 40 overrode the part of my brain that remembers what it’s like to be a kid and went ‘nope.’
The other half, who is rather more in touch with his inner child, is spending today moving around v e r y c a r e f u l l y. And me? if I want an adrenaline-fuelled supercharged experience on two wheels, I’ll stick to riding my bike in London traffic.
Fortunately there were some in our party who weren’t such wusses…and who are, apparently, made of rubber. But then again, they still are their inner children.