Phil Sheard's footprints

Setting out on my last Sunday morning bike ride I had a lot of reasons to curse the decision: I’d bought a leather saddle that’s painfully hard; I’d checked the forecast and knew that the rain was to continue all day; it was early and I’d barely eaten; and I’d chosen a new route around hilly north London that meant I may well be coughing up what slight breakfast I’d managed.

With all that in mind, my lasting memory of that ride will be the quiet joy of a nod from a fellow Sunday rider that confirmed I’m not the only crazy one.