I've inadvertently joined a cycling group, packed full of retirees/semi-retired.
I think my wife's behind it, as 3 of the 4 are linked to her friends. One is 72 and his the former Chief Exec of Cheshire Council - Middlesborough lad who is tanned all year round (Son in San Diego, Son in NZ, Son in Sydney), one ex-Sandhurst, the other is a time-served pharmacist for Boots.
The youngest is 68, and all of them are much fucking fitter than I am. They cycle twice a week, in between volunteering and golfing. And some of them go back out at night.
I'm up to once a week, last trip was 19 miles. Funny how life turns out isn't it?
20 years ago I was writing reams on a website called 80's Causals, chatting shit about Yugoslavian-soled Koln's, East German Police issue Sambas, and the different labels on Ball jeans
And now I'm balls-deep (arf) in mid-ride £1.99 breakfasts at the Greggs in Winsford.
