In my last post I offered a crash course in motorized methods of traversing London. Of course there is another way to get around.
This all starts with my boss. My boss did the Halo 250 which is a 250 mile bike ride across two countries in 24 hours. So I started making noises that I would cycle to work (12 miles round trip- totally comparable to his herculean effort right?). I made these noises for a while and then my friend, slightly bored of hearing this, suggested we cycle to a pub about 6 miles from her house to see how I felt after that distance. Turns out my friend has a terrible sense of distance and I actually hauled my sorry unfit arse 20 miles on a borrowed bike, before collapsing on her sofa with a cider, a sense of achievement, and a strong desire to feel my legs again.
So that was it. I started to cycle to work. And now I can’t stop (I’ll explain why later).
Here are the things I have learnt
1. It is by far the quickest and most reliable way of traversing London.
Remember those apocalyptic storms around the time of the vote that shall not be named? ( coincidence? you decide) It took me 33 minutes to get to work by bike. Which is three minutes longer than normal. It took my friend 3 hours to go 3 miles by bus. He looked somewhat stressed. I on the other hand just looked like a drowned rat having an asthma attack.
Generally by bus it would take me anything up to an hour and 40 to get to work.
2. You develop a deep and personal relationship with traffic lights.
Lights are very important (Yes, cyclists do obey lights occasionally) and like a bad relationship with God, I plead with them each day. Usually to go green so don’t have to lose my pace and start all over again, but just occasionally, red. Please Oh Saintly Light, give me a break and go red.
3. It’s a surprisingly vocal experience.
From yelling to muttering to the occasional agonized grunt/scream, cycling is a noisy affair. I spend a large amount of my travel time chatting to cars. Usually things like: out of my lane, out of my lane, thank you, NO! goddammit! out of my lane. As for the screaming, It helps. Makes you like like a weirdo, but helps.
4. A lot of drivers have no idea of their road position.
It’s almost as if they can’t hear me mutter away three cars behind them. But:
5. Some drivers are very considerate
Usually Taxis, vans and people who drive frequently and don’t want the idiot cyclists ruining their side panels. Except in Pimlico. There, they aim for you. On which note:
6. I no longer have a fear of death.
7.Saturdays are the most depressing day.
The only people cycling at 8.30am on a Saturday are a) people who think a twenty mile ride is a nice little spin before breakfast. b) Me.
There’s nothing quite as galling as watching these lyrca clad super-humans gliding past you on gossamer thread tyres chatting amiably to one another as you doggidly wrench protesting muscles into a last effort. And they dress better. They all look cool, sleek, professional whilst I’m reasonably sure I look like, well someone who mutters to them-self in ripped trousers and occasionally lets out a grunt of effort at the last stage of the hill.
8. I have become one of “those people”
I was told this by someone recently. I’m not really sure what one of those people is. Possibly someone who writes a blog post about cycling to work.
9. There is always a head wind.
I’m pretty sure this a meteorological impossibility. But nevertheless, it’s true.
10. You never have a hangover.
Obviously I’m a sensible adult and would never wake up on a work day with a raging, blinding hangover. But when I do, the 6 miles of car dodging, light begging and pedal stomping cures it.
11. I haven’t woken up skinny yet.
Which seems palpably unfair.
12. I can’t stop because I’m lazy.
I’m sure as one of those people I should claim health benefits, free exercise, money saved, motivation etc etc. But simply, it’s quicker. So I get to stay in bed longer.
Sloppy Copy 