Thinking about how lucky I am to live where I do.
Now, nearly all my cycling in the last 4 months has been in that cyclists' paradise of the Netherlands. You know. That place with dedicated cycle lanes everywhere and even cycle lanes around roundabouts where the traffic coming off the roundabout gives way to the cyclist. Freaks me out. Every time. Even after 4 months. I've joined a local club run, Lola Cycles, who hammer up the path through the dunes to Noordwijk every night and return to drink excellent beer in the Cafe du Gare. But I'm missing something.
Ever since I've been working all week ever week away, I've promised Mrs CET that I won't go out on the bike at weekends. I've gone running instead, which takes less time, culminating in the Dartmoor Winter Traverse last week.
I went out this evening and I realised I was missing something. It wasn't the potholed North Hampshire roads, which are become more treacherous every year, or the occasional driver who believes that either they or I are issued with Ministry of Magic vehicles that naturally shrink to avoid collisions (there were many very good drivers who stopped in passing places to let me pass).
It was hills. The route out through Up Nately, Greywell, Odiham to Roke Farm, Crondall, Ewshot, and back via Dora's Green, Well, Long Sutton, and Upton Grey has hills. Mostly short ones, some which can be blasted on the big ring, others that need more care. And descents. Suddenly all those technical skills that have been in abeyance for four months came back, holding momentum as best as possible whilst dodging the potholes, and timing that little blast of power to kill a short rise, working the gears to keep the heart rate just below maximum on the constantly changing gradient past Oak Park and, on the way back, judging the terrifying right hander at the bottom of the 10% descent in Tunworth. I've got all this on my doorstep. No Alps. No cobbles. No dedicated cycle paths. But just some sinuous tarmac through rolling farmland, perfect for resetting the heart and mind.