I’ve had a curious week, in that I haven’t done anything I’m actually being paid to do, and yet somehow the whole week was filled with work-shaped activities – attending meetings, writing up notes, editing documents, planning activities, and researching and writing up briefings (let this be a terrible warning to anyone who has a habit of starting cycle campaigns). Apart from one brief hour when I managed to get some gardening done, our statutory daily walk, and the glorious moment when I realised that when a meeting is held online and your part in it is done you can just … leave, I’ve basically done nothing but sit at my computer.
Today, however, I had no scheduled meetings, the weather was fine-adjusted-for-January (not actually raining, icy or blowing a hoolie) and I had a recently serviced bike that really ought to be put through its paces to check everything was working fine.
So I can report that the Brooks saddle has been repaired and is in fact as good as new. Anyone who’s ridden a Brooks will know that this is not actually a good thing: it has been tautened to the point that it is no longer a glorious hammock of comfiness. It’s not agony, or anything, but it no longer feels quite like sitting on a sofa and it’s clearly going to take a bit of either getting used to, or breaking in.
There’s only one way to do that, and that’s to put in the miles on the bike. I’ve been struggling to motivate myself to ride my bike when there’s not a reason to do so, so at least this gives me a purpose to ride it a bit more in the coming weeks of lockdown.
Well, that – and checking the level on the ford of course.