This photo pretty much summed up that day’s riding, even though it was taken just as we were setting off.
This photo also pretty much sums up why I now won’t set off riding when it’s raining.
I’ve written about that day before, and I’ve talked about that day even more. You know, the Bristol day. The day we started off wet, got wetter, and never dried out.
My boss believes that I’m a glass half empty kind of guy… which maybe I am, but the liquid in the glass is rain… and I don’t like it. That day was the worst. It was terrible. It was out and out “the worst day of riding I ever did do.”
Now I’m more than willing to accept that maybe we didn’t set off with the most positive of attitudes towards the day ahead. Look at us there in the photo; heads down, trudging next to our bikes through puddles. And my brainbox has undoubtedly distorted my memories of that days riding into something that’s far more awful than it actually was. Now not only can I not get past it, I don’t think I want to. If it starts raining when I’m out I’ll get my head down and up my pace, trying to get home and out of it as quickly as I can. Which is probably another reason why I won’t set off in it. I ride to have fun, mostly, but getting my head down and trying to get around as quickly as I can doesn’t really sound like fun. It sounds like exercise. It sounds like the gym…