Goodbye gym, hello cycling commute

Goodbye gym, hello cycling commute. With my sport club membership cancelled to fund the bike to work scheme, my bike now sounds like James Bond at passport control. "Business or pleasure?" "A bit of both..." (in a Scottish accent, obviously).

It's a 14-mile commute one-way, and with a following wind (yeah, right!) I should optimistically ride it in about 50 minutes. That's assuming a ride that's puncture-free, ice-free, and with the rail-crossing barriers up. All-in-all those are far too many variables for comfort, so I need to start making proper preparations. Firstly, I have to sort the bike. I've always cycled without mudguards on my road bike, happy to soak myself on solo rides or linger at the back of the pack when cycling with friends in the wet. But I'm not going to start the working day with numb shins and a salt-sprayed chin, so I head online for a cheap set of mudguards.

£20ish later and a pair of Crud Catchers are winging their way through the post. I find the instructions more baffling than an Ikea flatpack, but a spot of commonsense helps, and they're soon installed without a mystery bolt left on the garden table. What's more, they work first time. Result.

No point staying dry if a giant automotive beast is going to plough me into a knee-deep puddle though, so I've decided to upgrade my lights. For the rear it's a Cateye with 10 LEDs and more flashing options than a Mac-wearers' convention (a snip at £24 from Fudge Cycles). Forum reviews are excellent, and it sails through its first test in an early spring deluge.

For the front I plan to use an old Petzl head torch (think miner's lamp) with a combination of three LEDs and a conventional bulb. The light is great and the strap comfortable, but when I come to use it in anger I hadn't considered how it would fit below my cycling helmet. Or not fit, as it turns out. Only by twisting my neck to a peculiar angle can I make the lamp face forward and keep the lid on my bonce. I arrive home with a neck stiffer than an arthritic violinist's. Can I cut my helmet to make space? Will this irredeemably weaken its structure? Can I attach the lamp, Heath Robinson-style, to the handlebars?

Much, much more worrying though, is how to pack light for work. I don't want to fit paniers to my road bike, so clean, dry clothes are going in a rucksack on my back. My shoes and jeans weigh a ton, I'm planning to consume a zillion calories in a packed lunch to fuel my return journey, and a towel would be nice in case the heavens open. Time, I think, to rethink, and to migrate my wardrobe to the office.