It seems from looking at my average posts, I’ve been a bit neglectful in December. And it’s true, I’ve neglected running club too.
But in my defence, come rain hail snow and ice, I’ve got out of bed at 6am, shuffled into a pair of Ronhills, splashed some water in my face (god knows why because I get a face full of it anyway), strapped on the headtorch and pulled the bicycle out of the garage.
Every day, 13 miles round trip in the saddle. And on a Monday, Wednesday & Friday, after the cycle to town, I’ve thrown out some early morning free weight sessions.
After a while you stop thinking about it. Sure you worry about being run down by an arse in a 4×4 who doesn’t realise that 16 inches of clear space is fuck all. But more often than not, your mind is somewhere else rather hovering six feet above the ground travelling at an average speed of 15mph.
Instead, it is thinking about the hot shower that’s waiting at the gym, or it’s projected over a steaming plate of flaky rich steak pie & slippery buttered potatoes, or it’s under a barrage of pillows in the nightly father son pillow fight. Sometimes, I don’t even remember the cycle home, and it’s only really that last hill on Barn Green that tells me I’m home.
And sometimes at 6.15am we hear the wind whipping the trees outside. “Why don’t you take the car today Ren?”
“No thanks babe.”
Best not to hesitate.
- Pillow Fights (tammydotts.wordpress.com)