More than a month into this latest lockdown, I’ve made the decision that I’ve got to get back to regularly cycling again. On Sunday I went for a walk with a friend which meant a five mile bike ride, an hour’s walking, and then the five miles home and couldn’t work out why my legs were so tired later in the day.
Unfortunately, it’s become abundantly clear I’m not going to just go out for a cycle for the heck of it, however much I might preach the joys, health benefits and all-round excellence of riding a bike. So, now that our case numbers locally have declined back down from the scary peaks of January (I’ve been checking the excellent Travelling Tabby site for the latest data almost obsessively since the new year), I’ve decided to bribe myself with the prospect of getting an actual paper as long as the numbers remain heading in the right direction. So far, this has been enough to get me out cycling further in three days than I’ve done in the past few weeks, despite the Baltic east wind (perhaps it would have been better not to make this decision during the arrival of the Minibeast from the East although so far we haven’t had any proper snow, unlike apparently everyone else in Scotland) and the Weather Gods experimenting with their latest innovation: snow flakes that seem to materialise randomly out of clear skies just when you’ve set off on your bike.
Anyway, today I had a proper excuse for an outing – inspecting an underpass and photographing all of the broken lights (basically 4/5 of them) so I can report them to the appropriate authorities. Never let it be said that the life of a cycle campaigner is not a glamorous one.
And I was cheered on the way back to encounter one of the older litter-picking locals who I often stopped to chat with back in the day. I haven’t seen him since the first lockdown in March (and if my can collecting efforts are anything to go by – I hit a high score of 15 today – he hasn’t been out that much in recent months) so I was pleased to find him fit and well and rejoicing in having received his jab* three weeks ago so he should now be protected. As the weeks pass, and the rollout continues, I’m hoping to find that many more of Bigtownshire’s indomitable senior citizens have made it through and are – at least for now – in the clear.
* I know, I’m supposed to say ‘jag’ up here but it just looks wrong.
Town Mouse 
Is there a bicyclists equivalent of the daily 10,000* paces for walking? *Yes, I know this has been debunked as a useful target, but still.
I knew a fellow once who had a Jag. Sadly it was in the shop way too frequently. “Jabs” however, are a completely different thing. Probably won’t be getting ours until late spring. Or later. Too many other important folks ahead in the queue.
@Hexeres – not that I know of, maybe there should be.
@Bob – the Scots do like to say ‘jag’ it seems, and who am I to argue with them?