After an enjoyable run in the woods this morning, I joined a few guys from work on the Wobbly Mobberley, a cycle around some Cheshire pubs. It's billed as a drinkathon, anything from eight to ten pubs, a pint in each. I can't drink pints, I just can't. The best a beer can offer me is in that first refreshing thirst quenching mouthful. After that, I'm done. I declined. I don't care what the others think of that, but I enjoyed a GOR, a Ginger Beer, a fine cup of tea and a small but very welcome hot chocolate, thanks.
The riding was quite civilised, though my heavy mountain bike with its droning off road tyres made hard work of the flat tarmac lanes. It was still possible to spin the legs at a decent rate and make good progress, though. Cycling could be fun. I bailed out after 6 pubs. I only went for lunch. The others were beginning to suffer and I was loosing connection with their mental state. When I got back, I had an awesome shower and concluded that this is best feeling my body experiences and the highlight of my day. A shower. Heavy legs now, and bed.
I almost got thrown out of a cake shop today...
