Going For A Ride

I went for a bike ride, after I had pissed around for most of the morning writing poems. I'm trying to do an hours exercise every day. It is not so much for health reasons, although it is for that too, I just want to look better, fitter, healthier, younger, but I guess it doesn't really matter what motivates you.

I headed off down [my] Street to Victoria Parade, but my arse was so sore from yesterdays bike ride, so much so that I came home again to put my bike away and to walk around the block.

I wondered how I used to do it, when I used to ride every day? This is a different bike, maybe the seat isn’t as good? I haven’t ridden for a while though and there is always some arse toughening to get used to.

But, my leg, my shin splints, has been hurting, is still hurting since I jogged a great distance in the rain last week. Of course, I refuse to believe I have them, of course, like a bloke, of course, but I can't, really, deny the pain. Dang! I didn’t want to walk for an hour with the impossible ache. As I headed back in the front door, I felt like I had wimped it. I’d too quickly packed it in? So, I rode a test circuit around the block just to test my arse out for a second time. It still hurt, ouch, ouch, ouch, so I headed back home again.

But, I still felt like I was being soft. I realised that my bum hurt on the way down [my] Street, but when I decided to return home I realised I didn’t remember it still hurting. So, I gritted my teeth and I headed back down [my] Street for a 3rd time, this time pretty determined to get on with it, and I did. I can piss around with the best of them, out-piss them all so easily, so easily.

I have to be so careful on Victoria Parade, as they have taken away the parked cars and where I used to rush across in front of the coming traffic to find sanctuary in between the parked cars, the parked cars are no longer there to act as a shield. “Ah, ah, oh, oh,” up onto the footpath. I could feel the rush of air from the car as it rushed by behind me. “Ah!” I headed off around the river for a ride for an hour. It was cold, not really any sunshine. I wore shorts, but also a t-shirt and hoodie. I always find it is my top half that I have to keep warm, the bottom half doesn’t matter so much.

The muscles in my legs burned on the up hills. I gasped for breath as I pushed down on the pedals to the top of each rise. The Fire Requiem played in my ears. I gasped out loud at all of my effort, with ear plug headphones in my ears, I couldn’t hear how loud I was being, and I didn’t care.

The pain in the arse diminished the further I went. I stopped and took photos of the yellow autumn leaves falling. There was a carpet of yellow leaves spread out across the path.

The track was not very busy and it didn’t rain. Two positives. Tra la la, that was me, undisturbed by the "weekend" people, you've gotta luv that.

I gasped for breath on the Kew Boulevard, up on the highest peak for some distance around. The city spread around in front of me. So many new blocks of flats, I shook my head still in disbelief that we are again building the ugly blocks of flats from the 60’s and 70’s.

I felt the cold air on, what was clearly, my red face. I, actually, love that feeling, sweaty skin and dry cool air. My breath puffed out in front of me. The greys and browns and greens were dark and menacing and blunt all around. I pushed my foot on my pedal and raced off down the hill. Woosh! Yippee! Waga waga waga! Woosh!