Pootling and the best cat

Firstly I must announce that Mr Weenie is the best cat.*

I came home last night to not one but two pairs of new shoes, some uber funky trainers and some gorgeous ballet flats, both of which I'd been looking at and decided I shouldn't buy as Reg needs work doing. Sigh. What a man.

Anyhoo, back to pootling. Part of Reg's issue at the moment is that he's a bit confused about which gear he's on. He's one gear out in either direction depending on his mood. The result of all this is a feeling of complete liberation.

Normally I gauge my fitness and leg strength by my commuting gear but not that that option is out I just go with what feels comfy at the time. Shockingly this has, in fact, reduced my commuting time some mornings and improved my mood immeasurably.

Sometimes I pootle along feeling like a slow coach only to realise I'm hitting 20mph but because I'm not conscious of the fact it's all the easier. Sometimes I am in fact going very slowly but I don't care. Added to the gear issue is the drop in the number of cyclists. With no one to race against and precious few of the 'all the gear, no idea' crew willing to brave the icy winds I have no one to race against and no one to teach a speed lesson to when they've annoyed me.

What shocks me about cycling is how often my own views on things change and evolve. In a year and a half I've gone through timid, aggressive, law-bending to strict law adherence until I've found a style that suits.

Life change through cycling, how zen.


*The best cat means the best thing ever. The term evolved from inter-family rivalry about who had the best feline friend as three of us own cats but is now used for all things fabulous.