Or more bike parking for me.
This morning there was just one other bike in the rack I normally use. We have other ones round the back and there were a couple in them but there are very few cyclists left.
On the plus side the waiting time for the showers has reduced dramatically and I have my pick of he bike stands. I'm also given the look of awe by some as I stride in in lycra on frosty mornings.
On the down side, it's bloody cold out there. However, my problem is not one of chilly extremities, rather it is of sweaty hotness. Piling on the layers is all well and good when you set off, puffing clouds of steam and thanking the Lord for those fleecy leggings you nearly didn't buy. Halfway to work though you've worked up some body heat and you're dripping with sweat. You can't be arsed to pull over because you've only got 15 minutes left to ride so you struggle on encased in a cocoon of clammy lycra.
You alternate between keeping those toasty gloves on and taking the damn things off for short periods when you become like a furnace.
Then when you get to work you sit red-faced in a t-shirt while colleagues pull their cardigans around them in a vain attempt to get warm.
Roll on spring.