Recently (having realised I missed it), I resurrected the idea of tracking my Eddington number. Having been bitten by the loss of my tracking spreadsheet, and not wishing to get involved in the murky waters of Strava (even though it might have made the latest regional transport analysis a tiny bit less skewed), I have gone low tech:
I don’t do many Eddington rides – I’m unofficially aiming for one a month, where anything over 37 miles would count towards increasing my number, but longer is better – so it’s not a massive bureaucratic burden to write a brief note of each qualifying ride and then update the various tallies accordingly. Indeed, I’m hoping that, in time, the notes themselves will act as a prompt to remember some memorable days (and nights) out on the bike, even if this blog itself is long gone.
Yesterday was a case in point. The occasion – a chance to meet up with a friend who is holidaying out west for a walk and a catch up. The distance – a total of 55 miles, largely on the quiet roads we do so well out here …
Along wooded river valleys …
And up into what I think of as raven country …
Coming back, I had a tailwind, and on a warm late summer afternoon there’s really nothing finer than bowling along for miles and miles and miles on an open empty road with the wind at your back. No pressure of time, nothing to achieve, nobody to please but myself and nowhere I needed to be except (eventually) home. It’s not something I’d want to do every day or even every week, but yesterday filled a hole I didn’t even know needed filling until it was gone.
Getting one step closer to increasing my E-number is just a bonus, really.