The impossible bike ride

My legs are pumping, sweat drips from my brow, trickling down my nose, my hands are slipping on the grips and through half shut eyes I watch the distance slowly rise.

More! Faster! COME ON!! I silently urge myself, blocking out the slow burn of acid in my muscles, pushing myself on, adrenalin surging round my body whilst I gasp for air.

The timer counts down, seconds to go, I know I won’t make it but I have to try, all the way, 100% until there is no time left, push push push, the pedals spin and my legs scream at me to stop.

The timer hits zero, I sit up in the saddle and gulp down air. Huge mouthfuls, a drowning man saved. My legs slowly calm as I slow down.

I look down at the display, hoping for the distance I want, the distance that was set, the target that spurred me on.

The LCD glows. 10.4km.

I silently curse.

I slowly cool down, stretch my legs and head home. Why can’t I do it? Why am I so far away from it? I’ve done it once before, mere weeks ago, what is wrong with me??

And then it hits me.

Two weeks ago I sat back after spending 40 minutes on the bike. I ‘travelled’ 12.1km. Excellent, I thought. A good target. Since then I’ve only managed around 10km, quite a drop, and it’s taken me until now to realise why.

I’m only cycling for 30 minutes.

My brain is trying to kill me.

3 comments

  1. ‘My brain is trying to kill me’
    Mine too, think it’s hereditary?
    Question to significant other at the weekend ‘Why didn’t you get the Sunday Times?’
    The quiet put-down… ‘Cause this is Saturday’.

  2. Hi, Gordon’s Mum, us too.

    Ian’s Dad looking at a film on his Archos ( like a tiny dvd player).. ‘Is there any way to brighten this picture?’

    Me ..’Taking off your sunglasses may just help!’

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