You know that weird feeling you get when you walk on to an escalator that isn't moving? It's an odd feeling on so many levels, one being that you know it's not working, but still feel surprised when your feet make contact and the whole experience becomes awkward and ungainly. Well, that's kind of how I felt yesterday evening when I decided to go for a walk. It was strange because I hadn't been walking for a long time due to cycling everywhere so when my feet made contact with the tarmac the feeling was similar to walking on a stationary escalator. It took me a while to get used to it, but eventually I acclimatised and managed a brisk four-miler following the route of my original lockdown cycling. I walked up Elmfield Way, up Church Way, turned left into Norfolk Avenue and made my round to Ridge Langley.
It was a windy day so a jumper was needed, but it was pleasant and there was sunshine, but also cool air in the shade so I chased the sunny spots and, of course, avoided contact with others as you're supposed to do.
What really amazed me was how fit I'd become following last week's 100 miles and all the previous weeks of daily riding. I never tired of the walk when normally, prior to so much cycling, I would yearn for it to end and I would have to stiffen my resolve as I approached a hill, but not last night. No sir, I stormed along, I was never out of breath, I never got that depressed feeling of wishing it was over, I just did it, at a fair pace. It all goes to prove how beneficial daily exercise can be and I'm so glad that I stuck to my guns and cycled throughout the lockdown, which continues and shows no sign of abating, depending, I suppose, on what news channel you happen to be watching. Last night I was watching Newsnight with Emily Maitlis, and by that I don't mean I was sitting on a sofa with Emily Maitlis watching Newsnight, I was watching her present the programme on the television. It was late, it always is when Newsnight is on, it's the last hurrah for me before bed and my hand is always hovering over the remote's off button as I pluck up the courage to admit that the day is over and I must hit the sack. But before I plunged the room into silence, blew out the candle and turned out the lights I listened to the doom and gloom coming out of the black box in the corner of the room and it wasn't good: no vaccine for at least 18 months, social distancing for the foreseeable future, the new normal, you get the picture and, as a result, I went to bed depressed, not just for me but my family, for students whose university life has been ruined and for everyone furloughed or out of work. When, I wonder, will I join them?
It's Wednesday morning and I've taken to listening to Radio 3 instead of the Today Programme on Radio 4. I like choral music ever since hearing Hildebrand von Bingen a few weeks back and now I'm listening to Josquin des Prez. I can tune in and drop out and not worry about the problems of the world and that's what I'm doing right now, sitting here writing after a bowl of Alpen and a cup of decaff tea, there's still around 30 minutes of this luxury to go and I love it.
Claude Debussy is playing Nocturne in D flat major and it reminds me of my childhood and my mum's piano album, or 'record' as we would have called it; it wasn't an album by one particular artist, it was a compilation of music from the likes of Chopin and others and, for some reason, it's stuck with me and will always remind me of the school summer holidays, the seemingly endless days of sunshine and being in the back garden with my Action Man in his Australian bush fighter's outfit, the only uniform with shorts and socks and I loved the Indiana Jones style hat, which, of course, long preceeded Indiana Jones.
It's another day of the lockdown and, as I always say, it's not that bad, but I don't think it's going away any day soon. As they were saying on Newsnight yesterday, we're all going to have to live with Corona Virus for some time and we all might catch it before long. I keep washing my hands, so does everybody else and we all avoid each other like the plague. I've also said it before, but the UK is the sick man of Europe, the Government hasn't been brilliant and people are slowly realising it, so hopefully when it's all over there will be another election and, well, let's hope there's an alternative.
It was a windy day so a jumper was needed, but it was pleasant and there was sunshine, but also cool air in the shade so I chased the sunny spots and, of course, avoided contact with others as you're supposed to do.
What really amazed me was how fit I'd become following last week's 100 miles and all the previous weeks of daily riding. I never tired of the walk when normally, prior to so much cycling, I would yearn for it to end and I would have to stiffen my resolve as I approached a hill, but not last night. No sir, I stormed along, I was never out of breath, I never got that depressed feeling of wishing it was over, I just did it, at a fair pace. It all goes to prove how beneficial daily exercise can be and I'm so glad that I stuck to my guns and cycled throughout the lockdown, which continues and shows no sign of abating, depending, I suppose, on what news channel you happen to be watching. Last night I was watching Newsnight with Emily Maitlis, and by that I don't mean I was sitting on a sofa with Emily Maitlis watching Newsnight, I was watching her present the programme on the television. It was late, it always is when Newsnight is on, it's the last hurrah for me before bed and my hand is always hovering over the remote's off button as I pluck up the courage to admit that the day is over and I must hit the sack. But before I plunged the room into silence, blew out the candle and turned out the lights I listened to the doom and gloom coming out of the black box in the corner of the room and it wasn't good: no vaccine for at least 18 months, social distancing for the foreseeable future, the new normal, you get the picture and, as a result, I went to bed depressed, not just for me but my family, for students whose university life has been ruined and for everyone furloughed or out of work. When, I wonder, will I join them?
It's Wednesday morning and I've taken to listening to Radio 3 instead of the Today Programme on Radio 4. I like choral music ever since hearing Hildebrand von Bingen a few weeks back and now I'm listening to Josquin des Prez. I can tune in and drop out and not worry about the problems of the world and that's what I'm doing right now, sitting here writing after a bowl of Alpen and a cup of decaff tea, there's still around 30 minutes of this luxury to go and I love it.
Claude Debussy is playing Nocturne in D flat major and it reminds me of my childhood and my mum's piano album, or 'record' as we would have called it; it wasn't an album by one particular artist, it was a compilation of music from the likes of Chopin and others and, for some reason, it's stuck with me and will always remind me of the school summer holidays, the seemingly endless days of sunshine and being in the back garden with my Action Man in his Australian bush fighter's outfit, the only uniform with shorts and socks and I loved the Indiana Jones style hat, which, of course, long preceeded Indiana Jones.
It's another day of the lockdown and, as I always say, it's not that bad, but I don't think it's going away any day soon. As they were saying on Newsnight yesterday, we're all going to have to live with Corona Virus for some time and we all might catch it before long. I keep washing my hands, so does everybody else and we all avoid each other like the plague. I've also said it before, but the UK is the sick man of Europe, the Government hasn't been brilliant and people are slowly realising it, so hopefully when it's all over there will be another election and, well, let's hope there's an alternative.
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