Some of us have gotten it in our heads that riding ought to be a daily activity. We live and breathe the sport of cycling – the rationale that every day must spend some time in saddle is an easy jump to make.

The recovery ride follows the day of intervals; the long Sunday slog to the far reaches of the county is followed by a compulsion to ride the bike the following day for half hour, just to open the legs up. The pro rider in the middle of a three week grand tour doesn’t take a day off the bike, even on rest days, because of the potential loss of the fine sheen of fitness. For all us normal human beings, time away from the bike is good time spent.

A day off the bike is another 45 minutes in bed. A day off the bike is a post-work slice of pizza and round of beers, untrampled with the urge to hurry home and get in kit before the sun sets. A day off the bike is a chance to finally finish the New York Review of Books on the train ride home, tired legs healing from the previous day’s efforts.

A day off the bike is reason more to get on the bike the following day. Because while taking a day off is good for the legs, it’s even better for the mind. Good weather in areas where weather is dicier creates an urge to take advantage of the sun and dry roads. As an example, the Midwestern climate, as pleasant as it is from May to October, can border on hellish during the bleak days of February. The rider from such a clime has in the back of her head that six months from the golden beauty of a July day, lays frozen roads, crusted with slush and rimed with salt.

So the prospect of a day off seems like a bad idea: “I’ll just ride to the store. I’ll just do a short recovery ride. Just 45 minutes. That’s all.” Resist that temptation, go for a walk, eat an ice cream cone, and for once, be lazy.

Then go like the dickens the next day.