I'm still not back to best running form, and walking, pah, that just isn't enough for me, so it was time to head out on two wheels rather than two legs.
About the same time Alberto Contador was breaking his tibia on Le Tour de France, I was aboard my new steed, found by chance at a roadside bike man's house, and obtained for a mere £45. Compared to the rattletrap (now relegated to commuting and shopping drudgery) it goes like a bomb, despite needing some minor tinkering.
I thus had a good trip out on the Cotham-Thorpe-Home route, although sadly the sun had already gone in and my legs are still a bit milk-bottley compared to the rest of me. Unlike in the wheat fields next to the Elston road, where the Partridges had red legs.
I hope they avoided the combine harvesters, in action today.
Further round, on the rugged lane leading to Thorpe, I looked up at the telegraph lines, and each section had a solitary finch type bird sitting on it, in pairs.
Yellowhammer-Yellowhammer, Linnet-Linnet, Goldfinch-Goldfinch.
I always love seeing Linnets, with their beautiful red breasts glowing out from the smart but undestated rest of their plumage. I used to think of them as rare birds, the truth is, I never got out in the country enough to see them. They are much more eyecatching in summer, and are not urban birds by any means. Seeing one sitting on the fence always takes the edge off my arival at work.
Cruelly, as with goldfinches, the Victorians adored them as cage birds.
I ended up home in record time, a little sore and stiff, but thoroughly happy with my new ride.