We’ve all had those relationships that seem to go on a bit longer than they should with the ever so inevitable emotional break up while both people try and figure out how things went so sour, this is kind of where I’m at with cycling.
Playing bikes is the only thing I have left really from my previous pre-crash life, all of the good bits where taken from me and the replaced with physical pain, mental anguish, a life living with a head full of suicidal thoughts.
Everytime I ride along Upper Richmond Road I think about going head on with a lorry, it used to be a bus but buses are rear engined and to be a success at killing yourself I expect a front engine heavy would be better, I also think that bus drivers pay more attention to their surroundings than lorry drivers. I then spend the rest of my ride trying to shake the thought.
It’s a sort of torture really, I love being on my bike, it literally is keeping me sane, it stops the cabin fever of being so broke that you can’t really do anything beyond surviving on £600 a month, my life has shrunk so much that this flat seems like my own little comfy prison cell
I hate my life post crash, I feel like I’m disappearing a little at a time.
A few days ago I mused over quitting riding because I can’t afford a couple of new tires, I’ve already skipped meals paying for tires and when you only eat once a day it’s not great, and I only eat once a day because by the time I’ve paid the bills out of that £600 there isn’t much left.
I could be so much better on a bike, I don’t mind the pain and can work through the surgery discomfort which will always be there, I quite like being on my own for four hours but I can’t even think about nutrition.
So here I am wondering if I should quit, I’m receiving a large compensation payout this year and I could buy a couple of bikes and pay for a few cycling holidays and other things, or do I just fuck it all off, join the rest of the dykes at the driving range or the tennis club and save a few grand.
I’m tired of everything being so expensive so perhaps I could sell the carbon, buy a town bike, bin the bib shorts and ride a flatbar. Fuck my FTP, bollox to my VO2 max and think of all the cake I could eat instead of spending winters on a turbo trainer.
I could get proper fat and not give a flying fart.