Boxing Day.....

So there it was, Christmas Day, all the frantic build up, the weeks of anticipation, the queues, the overspending, the overeating, the blatant commercialism..... all gone in a flash.

But I'm not complaining. I love Christmas despite what I know to be its short-comings. I don't care - and I do my best to make it last at least a week. Since as far back as I can remember I've dreamt of being able to stop time at Christmas - to hold on to its magic. I imagined never having to go back to school (or work) - that somehow, some mighty power would step in and that Christmas would just carry on, a perpetual state of everlasting happiness and comfort. Sadly it never happens.

Today I got up and decided to get out for a ride. It was a misty morning but  no sign of rain, cold but not freezing. 15 miles would be good. I had been tinkering with the old bike, I'd changed the battery in my mileometre and sprayed some oil over the drive chain area. I set off with two or three layers, warm leggings and number 2 gloves. It became immediately apparent that the mileometre wasn't fixed - I decided not to worry about it - The route is a familiar one - I know its distance off-by-heart.

The roads have a bright glassy sheen over them and as the low lying sun breaks through the mist the entire road becomes a giant mirror, unbearably bright. I am reduced to looking down, to the area just in front of the front wheel, with an occasional glance to the further distance. I pass a man on a bike who is out with his dog - he has the dog running loose in the road while he cycles - dangerous. He sees me approach and I hear him shouting to the dog who moves obediently to the side of the road - nevertheless a foolish practise I think. I cycle onward and revel in the tranquility and a feeling of wildness. It's quiet, no traffic at all, my hands are cold and I think number 3 gloves would have been a better choice. The sun is behind me now and is no hinderence. I see a large group of walkers up ahead - 20 or 30 people of all ages, as I close in I can see they aren't ramblers. They display none of the costume of the seasoned walkers - no boots or expensive clothing, no rucksacks or maps - perhaps a group from one of the villages getting together to walk off some of the Christmas excess? - as I pass the main party I see further smaller groups ahead - faster movers, split off from the main pack. I pass them all with shouts of "Morning" and "Happy Christmas".

I pass a field sprouting winter wheat, each blade tip has a bob of moisture which catches and reflects the sunlight - it's like natures own magnificent display of Christmas illuminations - the field glows and sparkles as if laid with a net of fibre optics. I turn to start the return loop and pass yet more walkers, perhaps part of the entourage from earlier, a flock of starlings rise from a field to my left, disordered, dipping and fetting across the open land.

I'm not feeling good by now - tired and lethargic - my fitness must be at all time low - at least since I embarked on regular cycling. This route I have cycled hundreds of times and yet feels strangely alien,  each slight rise is felt in the legs and I am aware that i am moving at a snails pace. As I approach home I'm relieved that I'm back - the last few yards require some effort and I feel as though I've been out all day. Once in the garage I strip down the faulty mileometre and change the batteries again - this time double checking all the connections and resetting the handlebar mounted unit. This does the trick - it flickers into life. All I need now is to put some miles onto it.