Here I am, the day after riding with my friends, and my legs are still sore. They’re sore from the distance, not becuase it was far (80km), but because I’m unfit and we rarely pick a flat route, the word ‘Rouleur’ was created for the spirit that seems to lie within us, except for John, who is without doubt a Grimpeur. As I’m wrting I can feel clearly the areas of pain. It’s a strange sensation between discomfort and joy.
Discomfort comes from it simply hurting to move around, stairs a challenge and the thought of applying more recovery creams to ease the soreness and pain flood my mind. The Joy part is knowing that what I’m currently going through is a road I need to travel to regain lost fitness. I’m not content to see myself slip into a position where I’m unable to ride fast (well for me) and settle for a position of gradual, or is that dramatic decline. For a ‘blah’ speed which neither invigorates the Soul or stimulates the ride, the next few weeks/months are going to be like this. So sweat, pain and suffering are the gateway to speed and fitness and to the utopian world where you know you couldn’t have gone faster, pressed harder on the pedals or squeezed out any more oxygen from your burning lungs.
If you’re in the same place as me, remember you’re not alone and there’s many riders who have to take the long walk into the wilderness to come out stronger for the experience. If you’re not here, take it as a warning of one who never expected to be here, and ride often, with as much gusto as you can put through those pedals.