It's March, the daffodils are out, and we have been having unseasonably mild weather. So the time for excuses is past.
Monday afternoon we got out our bikes and went down to Tooting Common, not so very far from Gert Cottage.
It was the first time I had been on my bike since Christmas; longer for Jimmy.
I can't in all honesty say we had a strenuous session. It hurt. there were times going up slight inclines that my thighs screamed for mercy. I showed them no mercy. But it hurt.
We were out for little over an hour, which included a rest by the pond and then a coffee in the café; we also paused on a bench at the edge of the park.
When we got home we settled down to a fish supper and agreed that although we both felt sore and tired, it had been good. We have to work back up to big days out, my muscles have reverted to flab. And it was good for our mental health to be out in the fresh air and sunshine, and doing something together. Achy and tired can be bad or good. This was good.
We watched some telly, then I said Maybe we should clear away the plates before we settle down for more telly and before our joints seize up.
He said Yes; I'm beginning to get a bit stiff
Oh good I said Time for wild sex (admittedly, that's a given in Gert Cottage)
He said Not in that way! My legs...
At which point I had to confess that my lady bits were feeling just a little bit battered and bruised - from barely an hour in the saddle. And I still don't know why Ladies' bikes have a hole in the saddle. I mean, I know the theory but I don't understand in practice
