Being dropped

It will never happen to me. Yet it did. Humiliation, defeat, weakness. It wasn’t even a quick ride. Bump, gone, just like that. Dropped.

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The post ride hangover

Who is the creature who returns home exhausted, depleted? Dry salt caking face, heavy black rings lacing eyes, more aches and pains in legs than your average nursing home. This is the cyclist who has ridden too far, too high. Bitten off more than they can chew. The route too big for their legs.

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