There’s no easy or gentle way to say it, I do not look good in leggings, in fact when discussing how I look in my black lycra winter cycling gear, the term big black sausage was used, but used to describe my entire body shape, and not anything flattering about how my black cycling shorts fit me. Yet, despite my appearance, and the fact that it was pouring with rain, this Saturday morning, I set off for a full 5 mile circuit of my local park.
Part of this eagerness (or craziness) was that I awoke Saturday morning completely hangover free. Friday had been the end of a long, hard week at work, I was knackered, my poor girlfriend was at home with a bad cold, so I decided, for a change, I would head straight home, instead of the usual ‘quick five’ with mates, which normally ends in sambuca and a dirty kebab on the way home.
Well I say straight home, once I got to the train station I did find myself with 20 minutes to kill so I did venture into the Wetherspoons at Victoria, for a quick ale, it was Friday after all. Ah, the Wetherspoons at Victoria, not so much a pub, more a huge drinking trough for the great unwashed, where a man in suit is as rare as an ethnic face in a Abercrombie and Fitch magazine ad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no pub snob, and have had many a welcome pint at this Wetherspoons, whilst waiting for the arrival of many a delayed train (or in some cases phantom delayed trains, but don’t tell the girlfriend) , they keep a good pint of IPA, and at under £3 a pint, it’s also most rude not to, but it’s not really somewhere I’d arrange to meet friends, well except the ones who like the smell of piss, you know who you are.
One pint does not a hangover make (don’t worry though I went shopping for one Saturday afternoon watching rugby, which was duly delivered Sunday morning) and my short and wet bike ride put me in mood to cycle into work this week, and begin my quest for fitness, and say goodbye to the Clarkson belt buckle overhang.
I failed to do so Monday, these things can’t be rushed, but today, Tuesday, I managed it, a full 20 mile round trip, from leafy Surrey to mean streets of London. Up until Christmas I was cycling to work 3 or 4 days out of 5, and although I clearly haven’t lost my ability to swear loudly at my fellow road users, I found it hard going, but thoroughly enjoyable. I covered my modesty with a pair of baggy combat shorts, with the lyrca leggings underneath, which while comfortable and warm, did make me look like a bike courier that should have hung up his bicycle clips years ago. If you can imagine the old bike courier that no ones wants to use, he wears Iron Maiden t-shirts but not in a ironic way, tries to talk to the younger courier’s about fix wheel bikes, but the don’t like talking to him, so depressed, he leaves and forms his own bike courier company called, ‘Slow but Steady’, well that’s what I look like.
I’m no Lance Armstrong, and the only way I’ll be sporty yellow on my bike is when my liver finally gives up the ghost, but I made the trips in a decent time, which I hope to improve on, and don’t seem to be aching too much this evening. I’ll cycle to work again tomorrow, and combine the evening journey with a trip to the gym....mind you, I did spot a bike rack near Wetherspoons......