On Wednesday I did what sounds crazy. Got up in the dark and went for a ride. Not long, about an hour and a half. I needed proper lights. And it got above zero only for the last 15-20 minutes.
Why did I bother? Why did I enjoy it?
Some people do this because they’re proper cyclists with training regimes and they ride 5-7 days per week. I’m not them – never raced and have no desire to.
I think I know why – place and time.
I used to think (a week ago) that it was simply place. Riding is wonderful to reveal the layout of an area: here is that little creek, this is where the rise gets really steep, that curve reveals a great view, that road always has a headwind, etc. In a car I know the way but it all feels flat, the character muted.