I have cycled (or pushed the bike - after all, it is a push-bike) around 7.75 miles since I left the house. I can't feel my legs no more. I'm a mass of sweat. I can breathe, which is a bonus. I'm now going to have a long and relaxing bath.
Before I had a go at this cycling lark, I imagined that I'd soon think that a 10 mile jaunt hither or thither would be a mere trifle to the bond of man and machine that would be the bike and me. I have burst such illusory bubbles. Travelling any distance by one's own efforts requires just that, effort. I am nearly 31 years old, overweight and unfit. Until that changes, I will suffer every time I exert myself. Having said that, though, the purchase of the cycling computer means that I can challenge myself better. I know my speed. I know my distance. I know how long I've been going. I can easily time my journeys, track my improvements and goad myself into trying harder.
Or I may simply find excuses not to go into the garage anymore, where the unused bike will sit as a constant reminder of my failure.