Sofa vs. Cycle: The Relative Merits

In a rash fit of positivity, we decided that we’d take a family bike ride this Sunday.  Maybe I was artificially stimulated by the purchase on Saturday of a new bike for the wife (even though we won’t pick it up until next week), and the fact that I finally repaired Finn’s bike which has had a puncture for around a year now.  Or maybe it was the thought that this could well be our last burst of good weather before winter really sets in.  Either way, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

We cycled up to Duisburg, the next village along from where we are. Although cycled is perhaps stretching it. Freya (aged 4) did her best, but was going so painfully slowly that I had to get off my bike and give her a shove every time she lost her momentum, or veered off the cycle path and onto the main road. After managing a couple of hundred yards in the space of about 20 minutes, the rest of the family was just a speck in the distance, so I decided to call it a day and turned around. In the process, Freya managed to derail her chain, which is helpfully sealed inside the chain guard, so I couldn’t even hook it back on. Consequently I had to lug her bike over my shoulder, whilst pushing mine – and still shoving her every time she wandered onto the main road.

Finn came cycling back to see what was going on, and managed to fall off his bike in the process (despite still having stabilizers on it). So he gave up in a huff, refused to get back on, and pushed his bike all the way home. By the time the wife caught up with us, Freya had had enough of walking and insisted on sitting in the wire basket on the front of the wife’s bike. Which, with the deceptively heavy Gil in the child seat on the back, was impossible to steer, so the wife had to get off and push her bike, too.

So by the time we’d stomped back to the house, no-one was actually riding their bike – no doubt much to the amusement of the neighborhood kids who have probably been doing wheelies up and down the street since they were 6 months old. But on balance, I still consider it a success, as I now feel fully justified in refusing to get off the sofa on a Sunday. If anyone is so rash as to suggest physical exercise ever again, I can just glower “No, look what happened last time…” and go back to reading the newspaper. I may not get exercise on the sofa, but at least my stress levels are lower…

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