There are many things that can be said about me. Most of them derogatory and nearly all of those true. But one word would never been able to come from anybodys lips:
Uncommitted.
That is, until now.
I am so unmotivated it’s beyond funny. Two weeks of illness combined with the sudden and downright bloody miserable winter and I’ve sat astride my suffering bike only twice. Both those times were sullen hours of snap-free quads and empty reservoirs of necessary forward momentum. My get up and go has got up and gone. I have details of your very own chunky cyclists award winning evening but that too dwells in the cyberspace dank well of absent-drive.
This needs remedying before it’s too late. The lure of the XBOX is calling and I must ignore it’s siren call of cheap adrenalin fixes and warm living room contentment.
Perhaps the lure of a new route will reel me back into the fold of the always forgiving (if less than gently mocking) Pootle crew and I can get my winter riding back on track.
Whose with me?
Fat Lad
7 Comments