‘I’m not sure these old legs are going to get me up here.’ Not ideal words to be muttering 30 mins into a 2-hour hilly bike ride in Tuscany.
Luckily, my bike has an accommodatingly small bottom gear. And after a few harrumphs I also accept my body’s performing like the middle-aged, under-trained example that it is. Trouble is, we remember the glory, pain-free days of youth.
Plenty of people discover fitness in middle-age and achieve physical heights never previously attained. But that requires dedicated focus. And cycling is only one of my interests. Watching snooker is another. So is chocolate.
These days there are three things that make for a good ride on beautiful roads. Getting up hills without having to stop… staying dry… and arriving home safe and sound. Today was a close thing on the first one.
I blame nostalgia and this year’s Giro D’Italia for today’s route choice. Both conspired to make me ignore my current fitness level and choose the best roads I know. Hilly, enjoyable roads. Only problem is, you don’t enjoy them so much when you’re creaking up the inclines like an aged tortoise.
But then a few hours later you do. You forget the painfully slow pace and remember the achievement.
I shouldn’t expect to get up these hills like I first did on discovering them 15 years ago. I should just be grateful I can still get up them at all.
Andrew Greenhalgh 