It was easy. I remembered how to do everything. The ride took a while but I enjoyed it and it was fine.
Phew! Back to being arms deep in super high quality lamb mince and paprika. Back to being able to throw together amazing dishes with speed and ease in a fully stocked and equipped kitchen. Back to the hilarious banter one shares with friends and cooks. Back to having adult(ish) conversations about serious(ish) topics. Though I was absolutely focussed on work, every now and again I did have a niggling feeling that I was forgetting something. Then I would be like 'Oh my baby! Where is he?' in my head. Then I'd remember he was home safe with his dad. I would have liked to see a heart rate chart for yesterday. It would have looked unnatural. Maybe like that of a startled geriatric. That was certainly my bike riding style anyway. I used to hate being passed on the road by overweight business-men on their expensive road bikes or cheap and ugly hybrids. Riding a fixie means people expect you to go fast and ride dangerously. But I can't be bothered to do either of those things anymore. Well, perhaps the latter, but that's only by accident. I did nearly take myself out going too fast around corners and was nearly run over by an enormous semi-trailer crossing lanes (which I was at perfect right to do) on Ballarat road. I hate trucks. Stupid driver gesturing and yelling at me. What did he want me to do? It was either cross to my lane or be run over by someone else. Anyway, it's nice to be earning money again and it's nice to be exercising. We may yet lose this post-baby fat. Nothing I can do for my hips though. Like someone's over large head pushing itself through the neck of a borrowed t-shirt. It will never be the same again.