Cycled eighteen miles today, from Hartington to Tissington and back. I sat in the sun for a couple of hours reading The Silent Woman, whilst the others cycled on to Ashbourne to buy fish.
Previously, I had the custom of saying "no one in my family has finished a sentence in three generations", but I'm fairly sure no-one's ever got on a bike, either. We think it's a long walk to the kerb. I feel unbelievably healthy, and as I type, J is rustling up a fish barbeque, which will not help my bum get any less sore, but will surely be delicious. I feel my new found health consciousness does not sit well with alcohol consumption, so I may have to forgo the vodka tonight. Maybe.