It was so hard to get out of bed on Saturday, let alone get out for a ride on my mountain bike. PMT was setting in and I had a mild hangover, both of which don’t help when you’re already feeling a bit anxious.
It was 1 degree Celsius outside at 9am and the top temperature was only due to be a balmy 9 degrees, so there was my first excuse to wait til later. Feeling a bit down in the dumps I got back into bed for a bit, but I was restless. I cleaned the flat, I thought about how hard the uphill bits of the ride I’d planned were going to be and had to fight with myself about going outside. I didn’t want to see anyone, I didn’t want to get overtaken by a better biker, I thought about how badly unfit I’ve become, how tight my biking shorts have become lately -any excuse not to face the world and drag my sorry self outside.
A few more hours went by, then I remembered the words my best mate always tells me in winter *geordie accent* “You’ll feel so much better when you get up the mountain” and it’s true.
I thought of another excuse “I’ve not shaved my legs” but these excuses were beginning to get a bit ridiculous, so I put on those slightly-too-tight shorts, layered up against the cold and got my shit together to get out for a ride.
Yes it was hard, yes it was cold, but after about 15 minutes I was already starting to feel better. No more anxious thoughts crowding my head, only thoughts about how beautiful the autumn colours looked and how much fun I was having splashing through puddles. I managed 21km and part of a tough, loose hill climb (I’ll do it in one go some time next summer) and came home feeling happy. Exhausted but happy. Biking makes everything better!
JFDI… (Just Fucking Do It)
On another similar note I plucked up the courage to speak to the bank about a loan for my trip to Peru. If you don’t ask you don’t get… decision pending. My fingers, toes and legs are crossed! 😊