Find the pedals…..Clip!
This gear is too easy from where I rode up the hill to my house last time.
Fresh, brisk air against my face, mind that loose sand at the bottom of the road.
I can see to the right, look to the left, no cars…freewheel.
I can see to the right, look to the left, no cars…pedal.
The church and graveyard.. ‘dead centre’ of the village.
Wind is streaming around my glasses into my eyes. Cold wind.
Wait there car, we can’t both squeeze through this section of road.
Thank you.
I hope they cut that bush back before spring, it nearly always hits me in the face.
Mind this corner, it looks icy.
It wasn’t.
The first hill, view blocked to the left by the hedge and blocked to the right by the house… so just listen.
Clear… GO!
Tear drops making wet tracks down my face, congregating into one water droplet under my chin.
I wipe them away with the back of my hand.
Turn my head and blow my nose into the open air.
Wondering how much of what came out is now gripping my shoulder.
Co………nstaaaaant craaaaavings.. is alllllllllll…..
Slippy drain cover, broken reinstatement, gravel.
I’m glad I’ve got these mudguards on.
Ah haaaaaaaaaaa, constant craaaavings….
Checking my shoulder… it’s clean.
They’ve cut their hedge… I wonder if they used cones and wore a hiviz jacket.
Watch out for splinters.
Thin strip of asphalt between the verge and drain cover… try not to touch either.
Smooth.
Pedal stroke smooth, full circles, nice.
These shoes make my feet numb.
I always drink at this corner.
Water is cold….I like it better when I put warm in it.
Grumpy horses in the field.
Horses are so perpetually grumpy..
Miserable horses.
Miserable horses face.
Not dissimilar to miserable horses arse.
Horses arse face.
Face like a horses arse.
I love the word ‘Arse’.
I decided I don’t like words ending in ‘ie’.
Smell of sugarbeet in the air.
Horses like sugarbeet.
Here, miserable horses arse eat some sugarbeatie, it’s sweetie.
Ugh.. I hate that.
Misty, foggy but oddly mild between the houses.
Smooth tarmac. My favourite tarmac.
Decrepit house, money pit house, nice house, PIMP HOUSE!
I feel like I’m floating.
White fence rattling past like a train track in the peripheral of my eye.
Garage.. mind the diesel.
Audi R8.. nice.
I think he works for Audi.
That’s what W said.
Open fields, I love this stretch.
Smooth, fast, quiet, dangerous blind bends.
Hill, stand up, push, ignore the burn….
You’re not as fit as you were.
JWP JWP JWP
Recurring words and tunes, say them in time with your pedal strokes.
Pedals like a metronome.
J….W….P…. J….W….P…. J….W….P
Left J
Right W
Left P
To the tune of your spin class soundtrack.
Motorcycle passing, looking at me in his left mirror.
Was he making sure I hadn’t fallen off after he passed I wonder.
Maybe he was checking to see if I was a girl.
Open field… my favourite field blighted by pylons, although I like them from this distance.
Left or right, left or right, left or….
Right…
Around the curve past the recycling centre.
Grubby mucky road.. muddy, damp, slippy.
Pigs used to be in that field.
They lived under these electricity pylons.
I hate to even ride under them.
They crackle when it’s damp.
Crackle like bacon.
If pigs got struck by electricity they’d smell like bacon.
Nearly at the top of this drag.. and stop.
The main road isn’t busy.
Across and into the next village, past the houses.
Pink house, white house, dirty house, pink house, white house, white house, cream house.
Parked cars, watch for opening doors.
Check over shoulder and move out.
Kids running along the pavement.
Mums walking them to school…
Kids on scooters one way, Mums carrying empty scooters the other.
Milkman delivering milk.
Car pulling out, looking the other way.
‘Wedding Show’ at Glemham Hall…
… wedding.. I’m unmarriable… no show necessary.
Beatboxing.. boots, cats, boots, cats, boots, cats
C beat boxes all the time.
C makes headbands out of twiddled up toilet paper.
Can I make a beatbox sound from the words ‘toilet’ and ‘paper’
boots, cats, boots, cats, toilet, paper, toilet, paper…
.. it doesn’t work.
Over the bridge… the water looks clear, but cold.
The weeds lean with the current like hair blowing in a breeze.
If I fell in, I’d be head first in the water with my feet awkwardly clipped to my bike pedals.
And the water would go up my nose.
And it’d burn.
And, oh.. that’s a nice car.. looks good in black.
I bet it’s a bitch to keep clean.
Black and yellow black and yellow black and yellow.. YEAH uh huh.. you know what it is…
I don’t know the rest of the lyrics… I’ll have to Google them when I get in.
Corner, cars darting out of the junction, get eye contact.. get eye contact, got it..
Stay put bitch.
Ha, I called  her a bitch and I don’t even know her… It was in my head though.
Up the hill, under the trees, stand up, get up it go on!
Push, pull, push pull…burn, push, pull, burn, ignore the burn, push, pull..sit…
JWP
Parked cars, watch for opening doors…
Bin lorry blocking the way.
Queue of cars waiting to pass.. filter down the side, to the front, squeeze past..
Hold your breath!
Looks disgusting in the back of that lorry
Blast of warm air from the exhaust.
Still holding breath.
Passed it… and breathe..
Turn left, up the hill, turn left, up the hill, turn left pick a good gear
Hillview Road.. much of a hill, lack of a view.
Wrong gear… how do I get it so wrong every time?
Puuuuuuuusssssssh, pull, puuuuuuuusssssshhhh
Puffed out.. keep spinning.
Mind this roundabout there’s always diesel on it.
Mind the pothole next to that drain.
Smooth road.. smooth straight fast long..
That’s a nice tempo, I’m floating again.
Cool down…
Another drag up to the office… enough to make me sweat before I have to stop.
Through the yellow gates, around the barrier.
A cool down lap in the car park.
Remove gloves.
Remove lid.
Remove glasses.
And earwarmer.
Lock bike.
Grab stuff, enter building, get changed.
Enter office, arrive at desk.
Now sit still.