Contains hot liquids

Saturday July 3, 2004

We woke to a world that was quite plainly getting ready for a bit of rain. There was a stiff breeze blowing up, becoming more and more steady, and the sky was slowly filling with heavy, purposeful clouds of the rainy kind.

“I think I’ll slap some clothes on and go cut the grass straightaway,” said Graham.

“Probably just as well. I reckon I’d better get my bike ride in now, too.”

So Graham filled the air with friendly noise of his mower, and I sailed off into the wide blue yonder. I headed out of the lane and took a turn on to the fen road, heading in the direction of Midville. Not intending to go as far as Midville but that’s no problem because I suspect it’s one of those places that is widely signposted but which doesn’t actually exist. At least, I’ve never been able to find it while I’ve been out exploring in the car.

Trusty steed pencam photo

The road is only just wide enough for two vehicles to pass, albeit with great care and with one wheel on the grass verge, and stretches enticingly on, arrow straight, and completely flat except for an old hump-back bridge over one of the lesser drains. I had the wind in my back but even without that I would have been tempted to give it some welly. So I selected a more resistive gear and swung into a steady rhythm. I’d planned to go as far as the first t-junction, stop for a breather and then turn round back home, but was ready to stop at any point where I felt I’d reached my current half-way point. Oh, but it was such a thrill! An empty road, widening skies, and fields opening out on either side as far as the horizon in all directions but the one from which I came.

So I went all the way to the junction, stopped, leant my trusty steed on a handy bit of fence, and took stock. I was a bit puffed, but the fresh air and the wind took care of that very quickly in the best possible way. So much more oxygen than I’m used to! I strolled around, enjoying the detail of what I’ve hitherto seen only briefly from the car. Out came the little pencam and I grabbed a couple of landscape shots, making good use of the road stretching out to right and left. And, indeed, back the way I’d come.

Landscape photography with the pencam is a hit and miss affair, depending on the precise cast of light. Unless there is some real sunshine it tends to produce rather flat results, flatter than I’d normally expect. There must be a reason for this, though it escapes me at present. So, when making landscape pictures with the little beast, they tend to over-emphasize the bleakness of the situation. Not always, and certainly not in any way I can readily forecast or control. The uncertainty does however add to the dynamics of the process. I should of course take my Nikon and use the pencam for candid work only, and as a backup, but I don’t yet have any kind of baggage carrier safe enough to hold it. So that’ll have to wait its turn. No matter. There will be plenty of future opportunities.

Out on the fens pencam photo

Time to turn round and head home. This time the wind was full in my face, and made for rather more difficult pedalling. I selected an easier gear, and then another one until I felt the resistance reduce to a level I could cope with without strain. Even so, by the time I reached the hump-back bridge, I was well puffed, and didn’t mind in the least having to stop and wait while a tractor crossed the road from one field to the next. This was the only vehicle I encountered in the entire trip.

The rest of the way home was easy enough. As you get closer and closer to the village the horizons close in comfortably, with hedges, trees and scattered houses providing more and more shelter. It’s a welcoming feeling.

Back home, I found I’d cycled 2.32 miles, rather more than I’d planned, and three times as far as I can walk. My muscles were free of any kind of pain or excessive fatigue. To the contrary, I felt them glowing a little, almost as if they were healthy and fit. Which they will be soon enough. My heart enjoyed the exercise, too, seeming to adjust very speedily at each change point without the slightest hint of strain. And my lungs recovered almost as quickly each time I stopped and my breathing rate returned to normal without any difficulty at all. Unlike walking, I have experienced absolutely no joint problems during or after cycling. It’s quite clear that this type and level of exercise is right for me, and is going to be really beneficial.

Two lessons learned, though. First, I must be sure always to take a bottle of water along. I was notieceably dehydrated when I got home. It’d be a good idea to take a piece of cake or a small bar of chocolate as well. Second, never go out for a ride before breakfast. About thirty minutes after I got home I felt a sudden and quite worry-making drop in sugar levels and became a little light headed. It was soon put right by a couple of slices of toast and Oxford marmalade but it’s stupid to need to minister to this situation after the event, and it’s a mistake I’ll not make again.

I glowed quietly and comfortably for the rest of the day, however, and am very happy with myself physically for the first time in ages. It’s quite clear that cycling is suiting me very well.

Should I have left it until I’m nearly 65 to start out again? No, of course not. Is it too late to do me any good? No, I don’t think so. I’ll take a proper judgement in a few weeks time but I’m already feeling better, and sleeping better, too. However, it’s not a risk-free endeavour, and anyone thinking of undertaking the same activity needs to be aware of that. If I ever take a serious fall I’m going to be in real trouble; to minimise that risk I’m not intending to ride too fast, nor in wet or icy weather. I shall stick to my quiet rural roads and even then I’m very careful to pass or be passed by vehicular traffic with a good margin, otherwise I stop, move to the side and wait until the road is clear again. I’m certainly not planning to cycle at night or in poor lighting conditions. For me, that brings the benefits way ahead of any risk; other people with mobility difficulties may not find the sums work out the same, and should approach the venture only after careful consideration. Swimming regularly is just as good for you if the conditions are right but even here it’s not risk free. How often have you heard of a cyclist drowning after an attack of cramp?

My own take is, essentially, that life is not a risk-free occupation. Like a McDonald’s styrofoam cup, it contains hot liquids.

All I need do now is to drop the subject into the background as soon as I can so as to avoid becoming a cycling bore. I’ll publish my daily statistics at the end of the month but otherwise I shall return to my normal daily wittering about all sorts of stuff.