Back to reality with a bump

Every now and again something brings you back down to Earth, and often reminds us in the process just how precious life really is. As cliche as that it, it's the truest of them all.

I left my flat this morning in a bit of grump: I'd got up late, only just had time to straighten half my hair, and my good intentions of getting up early to make myself a healthy smoothie were ditched in favour of a measly cereal bar on the run. I wasn't on the war path, but I was in a less than perfect mood.

From leaving my front door to reaching the end of the road my mood had done a massive U-turn. Suddenly the small things I'd annoyed myself over just ten minutes before were insignificant and silly. The change happened as I witnessed a hearse and accompanying funeral car pull up at the church, and a devastated family get out and slip inside.

I could only begin to imagine what they were going through; what the week leading up to this day must've been like for them, the misery and heartache they were no doubt experiencing. And that was enough reminder for me; that life can be snatched away in a second.

So next time I'm whinging that I didn't get Beyonce tickets, or I'm bogged down with assignment deadlines, I'll remember the black car I saw today.

Muddy shoes, sore calves and an aching bum

Drove down to my Dad's last Thursday for Easter. After battling with numerous inconsiderate arse hole lorry drivers on the A1, I managed to arrive in one piece.

Did a 16 mile ride on Saturday round Milton Keynes with my Dad and two of his friends. Lagged a bit to begin with and hung around at the back (as I usually do) but as we got going I had a second wind of energy and sort of ended up setting the pace.

Really enjoying my getting out on my bike lately, whether it be a quick pre-breakfast 5 miler round the local lake, or a more all-terrain, technical 20 miles round the woods.

Biking has been a big part of my life since I was a babba; wearing a helmet two sizes too big for me and sitting in my baby seat on the back of my papa's bike.

I love it more now than I ever have. I thoroughly look forward to being able to get my gear on (sufficiently girly in pink and white, may I add) and get out on my beloved two wheels. Has to be the cliche of the century, but feeling the wind rushing through my hair really is one of the best feelings.

Getting out in the fresh air, burning a fuck load of calories, and giving both my legs and lungs a really good workout aren't the only benefits I reap from my favourite hobby. A nice long bike ride is one of the best ways to clear my head and give me time to think. You may not think hurtling down a sandy track at 20mph, avoiding muddy puddles and tree stumps, could be a nice relaxing activity, but it really is.

The only thing that comes close to the feeling of completing an exhausting ride, is the well-earned pint in the pub afterwards. And even though I may be a bit of a girly girl, I'd choose an andrenaline-fuelled ride over a candlelit bath any day.