The melancholy of losing form and fitness

Cycling tired

I used to be a contender. I could have taken that KOM. I was quicker goddammit and now look at me. Pathetic.

Slow with a tailwind, the merest incline induces a series of huffing and puffing and effing and blinding. Strava automatically marks my rides as private as a sign of a respect to my former self. Inner chimp has become inner chump. Yep, I’m most definitely outta shape.

Empty legs, head and heart. The unthinkable has happened. I’ve fallen out of love with cycling. Say what now? Surely not? The urge long lost, denial initially fuelled more riding. Perhaps I’ll just blast through it, I thought, kidding nobody. This lasted for two months before THAT ride.

It’s over.
Such relief.

Continue reading

Advertisements

The end of season break – Enough is enough

Cyclist resting
We need a break. It’s over. It’s me, not you.
I can commit no longer, I need space, I’m tired. Let’s not get emotional, let’s enjoy the memories we shared, fond moments we’ll never forget. So long bike.

Done. Kaput. Finito. The end of the cycling season comes┬áto an abrupt halt, no warning, just like that, you stop cycling. Mercy. One week you’re loving every ride, no end in sight, not even winter will stop you, and then bang, you’re sat inside on a lovely day, no motivation, no guilt, beer in hand, telly on, belly out.

Continue reading