Fat bastard

I like a pint of beer. Okay, I like a few pints, and being an editor I’m sitting on my arse most of the day. Fat happens. So, earlier this year, February according to my Runkeeper records, I started walk/running again.

You need to know that I used to run seriously and sometimes would be averaging 60 miles a week. But then, my knees gave up on me and I had to stop. Much like football, which I played till I was 40 (hence the fucked knees) and Paintball, which I had to pack up because it was taking over my life (but that’s another story), running is something that I still have a passion for and miss taking part in. But last month I had to admit that my knees had definitely seen better days and I was actually having trouble even walking normally!

A few years ago I’d seen a specialist about my knees at the end of my running ‘career’ and he’d suggested long ‘runs’ on the bike. [A little aside here. When he’d sent me to the rehabilitation suite the physios had put me on a treadmill! So much for communication.] Anyway, I love cycling too and have an Ultegra equipped lightweight Peugeot with straight forks. I mention the latter for those people who often cycle without holding onto the handlebars as it’s not so easy with straight forks. Very responsive though at high speeds. [Liz and I have a racing tandem too but have only ridden it once since we moved to Lincolnshire.]

Trouble is, when I go out on my bike every ride is a race, almost. I was looking for a nice round 20-mile route so I wouldn’t be out too long and eventually found one just over that with a couple of loops I can add if I wan’t to bring it up to 24. I’m currently going out every other day with a two-day break on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I work in schools and so far I’ve had no adverse effects. Not looking forward to winter though and waiting for the inevitable puncture – no doubt that’ll happen on a freezing cold day.

My route takes me along country lanes so most mornings I see barn owls and various other birds ( I pass close by RSPB’s Frampton Marsh), the occasional deer, hair and rabbit but the tractors are forever leaving chunks of mud in the road. No hills though, this IS south Lincolnshire.


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