Friday, December 14, 2012

The thin line between badass and masochistic

In deference to the considerable sum of money I have recently spent on my new bike, I decided over the last couple of days that the prospect of throwing it down the road on the ink rinks that were my local Suffolk country lanes, I'd take the luxury of peddling away on the trainer.  Today I went out – even though I'd studied the weather forecast.
For a change, the wind was immediately in my face. This was cheering, because I figured it would behind me when I finally turned for home. It was a tad cold, damp and heavily overcast, but I was keen to get into the Zen of The Ride and also savouring the concentration needed to keep a sharp lookout for zombie drivers thinking about the Christmas presents they haven't yet purchased. By the time I reached Kirton, it began raining.
And it got heavier.
And windier.
I had read the reviews about how my rain jacket and over-trousers were only shower-proof and not totally waterproof, but had bought them because – as one reviewer put it – getting wet is not the problem if you're still generating heat from exertion, as it is getting wet and cold that is the killer.
I got wet. I got numerous strange looks from drivers, presumably toasty-warm in their cars, appearing to be questioning my sanity. I got even wetter. And began to really enjoy myself. I know this says a lot about my personality, but there is something attractive about being so bloody-minded and willing to go out on a bicycle at this time of year.
Of course, when I headed on to the final stretch home, the wind was in my face ...
Writing continues apace. If I know anything about the craft, I know I can do a cracking re-write.
Don't do stupid – it's just not clever.
Total recorded cycled miles since 21st July 2012: 2029

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