The slowest thing on two wheels

It's official, I'm an Oxford-type now. Not once, but twice I have cycled to work and back. Oh yes! And it's quite far, too (takes me about 50 minutes to walk).

I am, however, having to reconcile myself to being by far the slowest cyclist in the whole of Oxford. As I cycle along, puffing heavily and wondering how bright red I am turning, I watch the world go by. As in, overtake me. I'm not just talking about the scary fit types with bulging thighs and worryingly tight shorts. Oh no, I'm talking people whose bikes look like they were taken from the ocean floor from the Titanic. Fat people. Thin people. People carrying huge rucksacks. People with little baskets full of text books. People with two bags of shopping attached to their handlebars. And they're all going faster than me, goddamnit!

I've been trying to convince myself that it's because I did something a bit peculiar when I removed and replaced my back wheel so that it's constantly breaking a bit and making me work harder. But secretly, I think I'm just a bit of a rubbish cyclist. It doesn't help that I was so paranoid about it being nicked that I bought the biggest lock I could imagine. Which seems to have seized up slightly so I have to worry it out every time I use it (rather time-consuming). It's also rather cumbersome when not in use, and I am yet to find a satisfactory way of attaching it to the bike in motion without it interfering with the wheels, the pedals, my legs, or even, on occasion, my arse. So I'm mostly carrying it in my backpack.

This evening, after work, I stopped at a shop to buy something and locked it to a lamppost. I returned and got back on the bike (after about 15 minutes fumbling with the lock) and it was about another 10 minutes before I realised I'd forgotten to switch my bike lights back on.

Honestly, it's amazing I manage to get my shoes on the right foot. It's only a matter of time before I go outside with a pair of knickers on my head.

More on that story later.