After a big push on cleaning the much-loved but sadly under-used bicycle
what better way to spend Easter Monday morning than actually cycling, on a route I used to do regularly.
Crikey, what an eye-opener. Not so much thighs of steel as thighs of jelly. There's an Awful Warning there, methinks. Get off backside, Wilbury, and get onto bicycle.
My son, Otis "Wedding" Wilbury, recommends a turbo trainer. I used to have a primitive and noisy example but it's rusted up (not unlike my legs). I sense a replacement coming soon.