As I write a steady thaw has set in, bringing to a close a fortnight of persistently subzero temperatures. It feels like spring but it is anything but. By the end of next week the forecasters predict that we will once again be in the icy grip of winter. This is a mere mild interlude and while it is being greeted with undisguised glee by the general population, it leaves me feeling slightly listless. I had settled into a surreal routine of vigorous nocturnal exercise: my morning and evening dogwalks converted to energetic bouts of nordic skiing; my commute requiring double the calories with my road bike laid up in the garage, replaced by my mountain bike with its studded ice tyres.
With the thaw both these newfound leisure pursuits are on hold. Tomorrow I must rediscover the art of walking on two legs and grab the chance to clean and lubricate my bike before winter returns.