Yet more ramblings...

There used to be so much to discuss. People had things to say. But these days, whenever I call somebody – normally mum, but it could be anybody – the answer to the question 'what have you been doing?' is often met with a nervous laugh followed by the words, 'not much really'. When you're not at the office (as most people haven't been for just over a year) and you're stuck at home, the most you can say is that you have taken a walk around the block or gone shopping. Nobody has travelled anywhere, it's not allowed. Holidays have yet to really kick off and it looks as if we'll all be so-called 'staycations' this year, nice for some, but others will be yearning for their annual foreign holiday.

Bigger breakfasts are the new thing

On Saturday morning, sitting as I was on a table on the green at Westerham, talking to a fellow cyclist who, it turns out, had only riden his bike from Limpsfield, so I'm guessing he rode along the A25, we chatted along the lines of the above: that we'd both been working from home, that we hadn't really done a great deal and so on. As always I mentioned cycling and how it has kept me sane over the past year and then we chatted briefly about haircuts. I explained that I was wearing a bright orange beanie hat because my hair was now so long it was looking, well, unkempt and horrible. I resemble The Toecutter from the very first Mad Max movie, but didn't mention this incase my new temporary companion had no idea of what I was talking about.

Now that non-essential shops are allowed to open there's more of a buzz down on Westerham Green. In fact there's a fair amount of stuff going on; first there's the regular gaggle of bearded old men on their Harleys, chatting away outside Costa Coffee, then there's the cyclists, sitting on the green in their Lycra chatting about nothing in particular and sipping their cappuccinos, and let's not forget those working in the pub (in this case the Grasshopper) who are busy setting up tables for the day. It's all very pleasant, the sun is out and it's perfect for sitting outside with a beer. Occasionally a Harley might roar past or a quad bike or some kind of vintage car and it's nice to sit and watch it all happen. 

Westerham has become my default ride. It's a good distance (roughly 22 miles) and it's not too bad. I've taken to riding along Pilgrims Lane and then turning right at the VeloBarn and heading into town. For some reason I prefer it, don't ask me why. I pass the VeloBarn with no intention of stopping mainly because you have to engage with the track and trace system and that's the last thing I want to do. Why? Because sod's law will dictate that if I've signed up for it there will be a phone call and I'll be required to self-isolate for a fortnight. At Costa in Westerham, as long as you're not using their chairs you don't need to register, which is great.

This past week I've managed to ride something like 68 miles, which is a darn sight better than my paltry 22 miles last week. Sometimes after a day at work, the last thing I want to do is jump on the bike and ride to Westerham. Especially, as it turns out, on a Monday. I'm tired by the end of my working day and I'd much rather do something a little less energetic, like drive to IKEA or Boots and then come back home again and watch television or read. I need to get my act together on reading. Over the past week I haven't looked at a book, which isn't good, so hopefully tonight (tonight being Monday night) I'll get back in the swing of things. Movies are my thing at the moment. Last night I watched an amazing movie entitled Blue Ruin on Netflix and who knows what's in store for me tonight? For some reason I've got a little bored of Prime. I've been writing a story of my own but have reached a point where I can't decide what I want to happen, although one idea has stuck with me over the past 12 hours and I'll consider it in a little more depth when I'm next on one of my walks around the block.

My cycling week started yesterday (Sunday) with another ride to Westerham. Andy texted me to ask if I was getting bored with riding to Westerham and to be honest, I'm not. I think what I probably meant was I didn't want to revert to Tatsfield village, which is a shorter distance, as my thing now is to get the miles under my belt, so rather than ride, say 10 miles or 15 miles, if I get 22 miles under my belt it means less 'rides' per week to achieve my level of acceptability, in mileage terms, which is 60 miles at the low end and between 80 and 90 miles at the top end of the scale. I suppose what I'm saying is I'd rather cycle to Westerham three times a week than cycle 10 miles every day of the week. Perhaps it's a form of laziness? But then the problem with Westerham is that sometimes, like today, the very thought of riding all that way and back gives me a nagging headache. Perhaps not a headache, but it certainly brings on a level of fatigue that will stop me doing anything. I've already decided not to ride today and instead go to IKEA, which I still haven't done as we're waiting for people to turn up and do things in the house, like measure up a room for carpets. Once they've been then we'll probably jump in the car and head for the Swedish flat pack furniture showroom. We're not buying anything, just taking something back.

I should really be writing this in my back garden, but I reckon it's colder than it looks out there and I'd have to put on a woolly jumper in order to remain comfortable.

Time flying past is something that bothers me...

Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com

Time flying past is something that bothers me. Google Photos annoys me in this respect as they keep coming up with summaries of my life, like what I was doing in 2014, which I still think of as 'not that long ago' but it's seven years ago and when I see the images I realise that I've aged and so have those photographed with me, all a little frightening one way of the other.

By not going riding today I am in a sense making a rod for my own back. Five miles done today are five miles I wouldn't have to do tomorrow, but now I guess you could say I'm down five, meaning that, to catch up, I'll have to ride 10 miles tomorrow. And this is how fretful life becomes. I used to be like this with swimming and on some occasions would be faced with having to swim a mile in order to make up for swims I postponed. In the end I'd have to admit to myself that I slacked badly and that was that. 

Something else that I might have touched on before is that old habits are creeping back, like eating too much bread. Pre-lockdown I limited myself to three slices a day but now it's much more. Today, for example, I had three slices of bread for breakfast: one with my boiled egg and two for bread and marmalade. Then I had a cheese sandwich for lunch, bringing the total to six slices and, as I write this, I've just made myself some more bread and marmalade, so that's eight slices. Marmalade is also back on the agenda and has to stop. I've been indulging myself with 'big breakfasts' – a bowl of Alpen with fresh fruit, an orange cut into manageable chunks, two slices of bread and marmalade, a boiled egg with fingers and, of course, a cup of tea. Pre-lockdown it was little more than a bowl of cereal or porridge and a cup of tea. This has to stop, but not until that jar of marmalade is finished as there's nothing better than stem ginger marmalade from Waitrose. It's another reason why cycling is important and must be kept up.