With the car out of action I had to walk the four or so kilometres into work this morning. I decided to walk down the main road as it's faster than the tracks so I put on one of those fluorescent waistcoats. Several lorry drivers moved their vehicles over rather than see me flail around in their slipstram. Forty minutes got me into town.
In the evning my boss loaned me a mountain bike. I had to blow up the tyres and do a bit of adjusting to make it roadworthy but, eventually, I could put off the dread moment no longer and I had to ride the thing. I got home in about 15 minutes riding more or less the same route as I'd walked in the morning.
The walk was OK, I could have done without the gravel in my boots but basically a pleasant enough stroll with only a few minutes to recover. The bike on the other hand was hard. I felt quite vulnerable but it was difficult to think about much other than the exertion. I nearly fell over when I got home as my legs were so wobbly.
Now I see why all those cyclists go in for drugs and blood transfusions.