Obviously, in the grand scheme of things it is, but not specifically today.
Mind you, whiskey might be part of the problem. We went out for a quiet curry last night and ended up drinking large quantities of whiskey. I think they were on the house. I'm not really sure. I was already drunk after my opening gin. Three glasses of wine left me legless. I have a funny feeling I might have written strange things on the internet.
A very late lay-in this afternoon. But womanfully, I insisted that it was essential to get out on my bike. Just up to and round Wandsworth Common and back. Via The Nightingale and a pint and a half of Young's Ordinary, which was tasting exquisite. I didn't quite manage to go all the way there actually cycling. I dismounted to cross Balham Hill (an A road) by the pelican crossing, then I wimped out in the climb up to Nightingale Lane, and for the last few feet up to the Common.
Clearly it was the beer's fault that my legs gave way on the way back. That is the worst bit of cycling. The very worst bit is the long slow climb up the south Circular to my road, getting slighter steeper with every revolution, at the end of the journey. Home so near yet so far.
I know it's doing me good, I can see my body changing shape, and I can feel my muscles getting stronger but when I collapse into my chair sweating, short of breath (yeah yeah I know why...) and having to wait and observe my heartbeat take it's time to return to resting level, I wonder why. Jimmy doesn't break sweat and his heartbeat doesn't increase (I don't think he's trying hard enough...). But it is worth it, on the flat and especially downhill. And even on those painful climbs when it takes it all my physical strength and willpower to get up them, there is a tremendous sense of achievement to have got there at all.
