On ya bike

My parents have always been early adopters: we were the first people I know to have a microwave (we even still have a microwave cookbook which contains such delights as ‘How to cook a delicious roast chicken’ and ‘Wonderful microwave cakes’. I also once came home from a ballet lesson to find Alison Holst in our kitchen giving a cooking demonstration in our kitchen. Sadly, I didn’t get to meet her, she was whisked away like the Queen once it was over.

My parents bought us cycle helmets long before they were compulsory and insisted that we wear them. Unfortunately this coincided with me turning into a teenager and having a wave of stubborness (that is only going now) and therefore my love of biking stopped, as I refused to wear the helmet.

Twenty five years later my brother gave me his bike and I have discovered how much I adore biking (and yes, I wear a helmet). I loved biking so much (and where we live is a biker’s paradise as it is flat) that I went for three nights in a row; on the fourth night my backside was so pained that I couldn’t get on (even with the padded seat).

C mentioned to me that she was also biking and we decided to go for bike rides together once a week. We meet up at the dairy and head to a small town 7 kms away. It’s great – we don’t ride that fast so we chat and catch up in a way that we never do when the kids are around. Also it’s better for us than having a coffee or a wine (or three) and it’s free (of course I was given my bike).