Snow joke

Enough with the endless snow already! I've got 167 days to go before I have to cycle an average of 145 miles a day for six days and I haven't been able to cycle so much as 167 yards for weeks thanks to the snow, ice, salt, grit and all that wintry stuff. Actually, that's not quite true - I went out a week ago for a quick ride but all that did was serve to remind me how unfit I am and clog up the bike with clag. I've not been out since.

January was supposed to be all about getting past that horrible post-festive season fitness slump when the slightest exertion brings you out in a toxic sweat and those heady summer days when you feel like you could keep going for weeks seem nothing but a cruel joke. It was supposed to lay the foundations for some serious progress made in February and March, so I could move into spring with a little bit of confidence. That's what this month's supposed to be about, but here we are a third of the way through it and I've spent most of it staring balefully out of the window willing the thaw to begin.

There's always the turbo trainer of course. On paper, the turbo trainer looks like an excellent substitute when the real thing's out of reach. And it is - once I've managed my family's expectations about the availability of our breakfast room for the coming hour or two, and I've tunnelled to the turbo trainer in the back of the coat cupboard, moved 16 pairs of shoes, one vacuum cleaner, three vacuum cleaner attachments, four rucksacks, my bicycle pump, a football and three coats that have fallen off their hooks while I've been wrestling all the other stuff out of the cupboard. Once I've done that it's just a matter of swapping the bike's rear axle for the one supplied with the turbo trainer, finding the mat I put under the bike so the whole house doesn't howl eerily with each pedal stroke, setting the bloody thing up, getting changed, sorting out towel, water and music, and then, finally, getting on and pedalling. For over an hour. Stationary. In my own breakfast room.

Then of course, once I've done my thing and I'm feeling all virtuous, I have to undo everything I've done to set it up, including that exasperating repacking of the coat cupboard, which somehow always seems that bit harder than the unpacking part.

Still, it really is better than nothing I suppose. But come on now, snow! Enough's enough!