Ripping through the trails, and that charred smell isn't BBQ, it's the steady burn of my leg muscles. My breath is coming in ragged gasps and sweat drips from my hockey hair as I do my damndest to keep up with the group ahead.
The only thing propelling me forward is my stubborness.
Today I am not one with my bike. Today we ride as individuals in an epic clash of wills. For the umpteenth time I look down at my back tire. It feels flat, and I'm all over the place. Its as if my back wheel isn't attached properly and is floating along behind me like Scrat chasing his acorn. *ooooh shiny!*
That audible gulp that just eclipsed the sound of my hammering heartbeat, is the last thing you hear before I almost eat tree bark. I stop, and remove my sunglasses which are no longer suitable for the contrasting streaks of sunset and shadow streaming through the trees.
For the fifth time in as many rides I flipped off my flippin' pedal and bashed my shin. I think someone is messing with me... because its laughing at me now.
*mimicking voice* Biking is good for you they say, helps you get in shape they say... Obviously they're not doing it the way I do. How many times is it before they commit you after multiple self-inflicted injuries of the same kind? I'm pretty sure I've used up both of our quotas...
On the way back down my breathing smooths out with the trail, and I am able to spare a glance to my surroundings... it's breathtakingly magical. I'm flowing through gently rolling grassy hills, dotted with bright yellow balsam root plants. I can hear birds singing and there is a peacefulness descending with the setting sun.
The worries of the day, and the struggles of the last two hours are forgotten somewhere along the trail... This is why biking is good for me.
The only thing propelling me forward is my stubborness.
Today I am not one with my bike. Today we ride as individuals in an epic clash of wills. For the umpteenth time I look down at my back tire. It feels flat, and I'm all over the place. Its as if my back wheel isn't attached properly and is floating along behind me like Scrat chasing his acorn. *ooooh shiny!*
That audible gulp that just eclipsed the sound of my hammering heartbeat, is the last thing you hear before I almost eat tree bark. I stop, and remove my sunglasses which are no longer suitable for the contrasting streaks of sunset and shadow streaming through the trees.
For the fifth time in as many rides I flipped off my flippin' pedal and bashed my shin. I think someone is messing with me... because its laughing at me now.
*mimicking voice* Biking is good for you they say, helps you get in shape they say... Obviously they're not doing it the way I do. How many times is it before they commit you after multiple self-inflicted injuries of the same kind? I'm pretty sure I've used up both of our quotas...
On the way back down my breathing smooths out with the trail, and I am able to spare a glance to my surroundings... it's breathtakingly magical. I'm flowing through gently rolling grassy hills, dotted with bright yellow balsam root plants. I can hear birds singing and there is a peacefulness descending with the setting sun.
The worries of the day, and the struggles of the last two hours are forgotten somewhere along the trail... This is why biking is good for me.
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