Constructive fury

Today was a Hard Ride. I was going to write a nice nostalgic post about all the memories I have spending time in the Yorkshire and Cumbria landscape with friends, getting drenched in low clouds and missle, drinking tea to make it all better… I certainly felt very much at peace with the world for most of yesterday and the first part of today when the rain poured down and a blustery wind pushed us up the last of a hill so big and aloof that we could hardly see through the fog at the top.

But no. Today’s ride turned to fury. After about 70 miles of incessant, steep little climbs that don’t even register as Hills of Significance on any proper cyclist’s radar, I’d had enough. Absolutely enough. That sort of absolutely enough where the only option is to stop and sob a little, however inconvenient that stopping place is. Mine was somewhere on the roadside, somewhere near the sort-of top of not-even-the-last ‘hill’ of the day. So stop I did. I very much wanted to give up right there. While working out how I could give up, I took off my steamy waterproof trousers and consumed some magic gel that the others on this ride swear by. These two things, as well as being spotted as lagging behind, gave me just enough of a prod to keep going a little further. Then a little further. Then came the fury.

What sort of a stupid ride was this anyway? Why was I still riding with sore hands and a sore bum and sore thighs? How dare there be another hill! And why, just WHY, was the road covered in rivers of water?! I was not having any of it. I stormed through those little lakes, cycling with both pedals fully submerged in angry defiance of their watery clutches. Sheer bloody-minded determination kept me upright. And so I finished this ride of 90 miles, damp, tired, and furious.

(One of those road lakes was being filmed as we passed through, so look out for an angry & sodden me on Sky News)

Anyone who has been around me over the last few months will recognise a similar pattern as I was trying to finish my thesis. Fury got that thesis written at the end. Not the destructive sort of fury, but a constructive one.

But, in a constructive conclusion, we’re about half-way now at nearly 550 miles. Tomorrow we reach Scotland!

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