My tiny and lovely feisty female friend has been on a bike, what, maybe twice in the last two decades and she's never ridden on the road. She's feeling a bit left out, but also feeling like maybe there's something she might get a lot from that she hasn't tried. It feels to her like her friends are all moving away from hill walking, climbing, scrambling and getting on two wheels instead. And she can't keep up. So it was a privilege to be trusted to take her out on a mountain bike on Friday. We had a whole entire day together which made the ride bit simply social and about experience and riding together and smiling, laughing, and for her there was also an awful lot of breathing. For me, it meant a ride in keeping with the physio's instructions but with added sparkle of having my friend with me experiencing things for the first time. Nothing like a first time for making your eyes shine. It's funny too, the memories of the days when two hours was definitely enough on the bike, the memories of the kind of inclines which then put me into little ring and now don't. And the big discussion over not wearing underwear under padded shorts. At least she got to have that chat before the shorts went on. I believe it was a few times before I embraced the odd feeling of going commando.
The next day I explored. I meant to ride to Wigan but ran out of signs and somehow found myself in Leigh, where there's a lot of trail creation going on as part of the Sustrans National network. It is, though, work in progress, and riding over the recently chipped brash gave a certain element of interest to the ride as well as fear of thorny punctures. Perhaps all that touching wood is what saved me. Who knows? The evening was socialising with my older climbing friends, kind of nice evening of the over 40s. Weirdly far more me than the 20s were. Or maybe that's just what I think now.
Today, though, I breathed. I took the road bike out for the first time since the minor topple and with a map in my pocket and no clue of what I was doing, set out from the front door. It was a lovely day for the Cheshire Lanes. Grey clouds and a threat of rain, but cyclists everywhere. My head bobbling like a nodding dog as I attempted to acknowledge other riders and the general joy of the day. Breathing seemed to be my only focus, just breathing. Hearing each breath and feeling the love of life that came with it, just breathing, sometimes panting, but mostly breathing and feeling alive, blessed and thankful for the privileges I have been given in health and friendship. Thank you.
Today has been brought to you by La Roux ...
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