Being amogst nature helps heal mind, body and soul.
I don’t know where my time goes. One minute I’m writing here and the next minute two weeks has flown past without a thought to stop or slow down a little. I’ve been managing the injuries I wrote about last time as best I can and am pleased to report that I have made good progress. I’ve ridden Kermit a few times by limiting my mileage and keeping half an eye out to gently increasing it. In addition to that there’s been some pilates and a little yoga, as this always helps rebalance muscle groups that can easily get out of sync with one another when you do repetitive exercise like cycling.
Escape to tranquility.
Up until last week, the sun kept on shining, showering our lily-white bodies with its warming rays. Typically, our first response is to throw off as many clothes as possible, leaving only those that leave us decent. Once done, we sprawl ourselves out like carpets to maximise the absorption of these precious rays. All of the experts crawl out of the woodwork, telling us how we are all going to die of skin cancer, but by now, the middle of June, we are so deprived of vitamin D that we abandon ourselves to our fate like lemmings off a cliff.
NCN1 heads for the coast
Hiatus: A gap, a pause, a lull, an interruption. Call it what you wish, there are all manner of reasons for having one. At the moment I’m having a hiatus from cycling, for one simple reason; I’m injured. As summer approaches and the days grow in warmth and length, stretching our imaginations far and wide, I can’t go out and pedal any distance. All of my thoughts, cycling dreams and plans are on hold.
Surprises lurk at every turn provided you eekp your eyes peeled.
I’ll always be a mountain biker at heart. Not the modern type, but the old fashioned, first generation rider who didn’t know the limits of their machines or themselves but embraced a new idea with a keenness to explore and unbridled passion. People had long been travelling in mountainous regions with their touring bikes. It was known as riding the rough stuff. It involved frequent walking and some carrying to be able to get into truly wild places, but it was the privilege and preserve of a few die-hard riders who wanted more than to follow the ribbons of tarmac their bikes were designed for.
Peace and quiet on the Tarka Trail.
The past week here in Devon has been sublime. Warm spring sunshine has bathed the whole county from dawn to dusk on most days, helping those of us who live here to feel alive and inspired. I have noticed over the years that regular sunshine makes a difference for me, especially the first rays of the year when we have often spent around six months deflecting the storms and gloom that lurks on west coast and then drags its feet slowly eastwards across the country.
Trish and Darren.
The last week has provided quite a change from the previous few. My low-energy state has remained but I’ve had the most enjoyable time despite it. On Wednesday evening of last week, I answered the doorbell to find a couple of round the world cyclist’s standing there with big grins, looking lean and hungry. Trish and Darren Whittaker originate from Yorkshire, live in Australia in the Northern Territories, and are getting close to the end of a one-and-a-half- year cycle journey around various parts of the globe.
Cafe’s are good for the mind and soul.
I have tried on so many occasions to give an idea of what it’s like to live in a circle of poor mental health and particularly of how depression and anxiety can wreak havoc in your life. A few weeks ago I felt relatively level and happy that my fitness was improving. I felt positive and had begun planning a ride for the summer with some enthusiasm. In general, there has been an ongoing trend of slow recovery for me but it seems to have plateaued.