Tandems

I cycle through the morning sunshine, my presence displacing currents of warmth that glide past and kiss my cheeks. Twice daily I peddle this route over tarmac, gravel, cobbled mews streets, floating plastic bags. The traffic is backed up, stop, start, stop, start, engines purring and spluttering, but I don't care. My two wheels squeeze through and past and carry on up and round and down and round and past and in and out of the cars blocking the road. I'm confident and full of my own thoughts - alone underneath the snail's shell guarding my consciousness. The morning commute is my favourite part of the day. I wake slowly and generously, carefully - no sudden movements, don't panic, no sudden movements, "women - remove high-heeled shoes!" I'm less of a liability now that the days of caffeine addiction have decided to remain in the recent past, they're happy there, and I'm less edgy.
One part of the route sees tyres gliding, arse firmly on the seat - for one road only - the recently tarmaced, not-yet-speed-bumped cyclists' dream! Rubber meets seedless raspberry jam smoothness and for a moment my feet stop doing the hard work and I fly...
I do my best thinking on this road, I respect it so much. It's smooth and calm and curious and never blinks... hang on, that's a Suzanne Vegas lyric... I mean, it's smooth and solid and dependable and clean and always there and great in the rain and makes my life, well my cycle, more fun. Who knows? it maybe even contributes to my mental health! Perhaps doctors should prescribe smooth-road-cycling to the depressed folk who clutter up their waiting rooms. But hang on, I was a waiting-room-clutterer once, and I know how little motivation I had... tandems! That's it! Tandems are the way forward, all of the benefits and none of the responsibility.