Well, off she went, that intrepid foolhardy Hughesy, off to town on an actual bicycle. Had a meeting at about 4pm. Left here at ten to. Plenty of time - only a minute or two to push the bike up heart break hill, then down hill all the way, a Wind in Her Hair coast!
What I failed to factor into the time and motion equation were three -damn, THREE! - gentle climbs between the bottom of the heartbreak and town. Man, I thought I was going to expire.
I am not a timelord. According to G-man, the car ride into town is at the very least ten minutes, and those humps reduced my pedalling to less than walking speed and burning thighs. By the time I arrived at the meeting at 4.30, I was gagging, driping in sweat and needed at least two tumblers of H2O before I could even speak.
The bike is currently parked under the house of the woman I met with, and she very kindly drove my sorry carcass home.
Still, if I can manage to actually move in the morning, I'm going to ride that sucker back, even if it takes me all bloody day. And this time, I'll remember the bloody helmet.
Rule # 1 - don't leap into an exercise regime you vageuly remember yourself capable of twenty years ago.
Therein lies humiliation.