Waking up in the morning is such a letdown. The return of consciousness pulls you away from dreams of glory on the race track in front of appreciative hordes, hot sunny days cruising down on the sea front drawing envious glances from the beautiful people or empty twisting mountain roads stretching ever onwards and ever upwards. As those sweet thoughts drift away and life reasserts its presence you become aware of the sound of rain thrashing against the shutters, “oh well, at least I don’t have to go into work today” ….wet, winter, 7am rides to the everyday grind are never something anybody wants to do.
Over the first cup of coffee of the day, gazing out of the rain streaked window you feel the heartfelt wrench of realization that perhaps today is not the best day to go out for a ride. Well you really ought to get on with tiling out the bathroom; you have been putting it off for months and now is as good a day as any to do it. Maybe you could clean some of the crap out of the attic, or you could get a start on that report for next week, it would put you ahead at least.
The third cup of coffee, the better half sits beside you on the settee and as you gaze at the still leaden sky, heavy with water. You confide in them that you really want to go for a ride. Sensibly they don’t say the obvious; they have been around far too long to do that. Instead the response is measured and reasonable, “You only cleaned the bike yesterday, ten minutes out in that and you are going to have to do it all again” . They are right, and all that new bling you fitted is going to lose its luster pretty quick in these conditions.
You’ve run out of coffee, nothing for it, you’ll have to go on a run to get some, oh well , it is not your fault is it? Strangely relieved you start to dig out the wet weather gear; well you do until the better half comes in and mysteriously finds the pack of coffee carefully hidden at the back of the cupboard.
The rain pours down and the coffee pours once more, “Come here, let’s watch qualifying together. It really is chucking it down out there; even the ducks are wearing wellingtons”
“You’re right, of course, but I really fancied a ride today” you reply sulkily.
The TV casts a harsh light through the murk of the day, Rossi and Lorenzo are fighting it out for pole in sunny Valencia, and you are sitting on a settee, gazing out of the window and wishing for a miracle.
“You don’t want to be out there, you’ve only just got over that broken collar bone. You don’t want another 6 weeks of that do you?”
“Yeah, I guess you are right”, the words are honest but they need to be dragged from you.
Ten minutes later you are pulling on your gloves, key in hand, opening the garage door…..
“Where are you going? It is pissing it down”
And with a sunny smile you turn and say
“Oh just out for a ride”