Cleaning my bike in the dark, every weekend for 17 weekends
Getting my bike out of the shed the following weekend to find, there are still smeary marks and bits of dirt I missed.
Digging twigs, stones and clumps of sand from the seal of the washing machine
Training on a turbo in pitch black
Car Tetris
Jet washing my shoes, daily rotating the newspaper stuffing and pray they will be dry by the next weekend
Getting up a 7am on Saturday/Sunday and missing a re-run of Frasier by driving to a cyclocross race
Going on the M1
will miss
Shredding off road on skinny tyres, feeling out of control and trying to go faster
Winning cyclocross races
Followed by awkward podium presentations
Signing people's autographs
Having a slightly bruised shoulder on Monday mornings
Running on muddy paths around Tooting Common as the sun comes up
Hanging out with ViCiOUS velo at races, making jokes, having ideas showers, smashing into bushes, yelling at them from the sidelines
Trying to race in the cyclocross motherland
The peculiar smell of damp mud
Finding a secret line on a section of course to go faster than everyone else
When people in the crowd call your name and cheer with as much energy as they can muster
Riding on the turbo and getting to that point where your muscles feel so tired they they fizz then feel white hot, sort of cold but that makes you try to go faster
My bikes are now in the loft, seven months and counting.
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