This next bit’s for dismounting and walking, right?
Grounded for jogging with a tweaked hamstring, I cycled three times in Sydney, a sedate 20 kms, then just as slowly for 30 kms, and yesterday 20 kms a bit faster. Faster meant 18 kms/hour, which is quite a bit slower than what I’ve tended to in Melbourne, but there’s a ready explanation for that: Sydney is hell for cyclists. I made my way to the Cooke River, which is a sweet trail, but every access road, every road crossing , every construction site along the way was designed to push cars through, and dismounting was essential.
But none of those grouses mattered. I felt great, delighted that a sore hamstring didn’t mean no cycling. And I was on a road bike, perched on top like a gymnast. How exciting!