Expecting an average Sunday spin to be, well... average, can be a mistake. I should have known when I passed a burning bin down town at 7am that it wasn't an average day. And then I got to thinking [cycling gives you serious time to think. Could be planning somebody's downfall, a full-blown argument with your nemesis, the plot of your novel, mentally pummeling an idjit in the workplace or... just shooting the breeze with nature....], sorry, I got to thinking, is there ever an average outing for a cyclist? Or for that matter, any endurance sport enthusiast?
I'm not blowing my own trumpet [now that would be an interesting sound!] but I'm above average. OK, not in the looks department. Nor talent, ability, intelligence or attitude.😣 BUT; I'm not a loser either. So how on earth is average Joe not average? I think being an average cyclist has raised me above the average! I'm munching porridge and glugging coffee while a large amount of lard-arteries are lying in bed floored by the excesses of draught beer, dead-calf-kebab-meat and probably keeping their eyes screwed tight lest they see the Chupacabra they brought home with them in a moment of alcoholic idiocy. I am sneaking out an hour before dawn to reboot my chip and get my brain in gear for whatever the future will bring.
I am also organised. GPS, lights, bottles, food, clothes; you name it, its charged or arranged. Coffee ground the night before too lest I wake a child and fail to escape to freedom. Even the squeaky bathroom door is left open in case it is heard. Sunday donuts complete with plates and glasses are out for the sprogs. My life might be chaos on ketamine but my biking is OCD [Obsessive Cycling Disorder].
And then there's my sensory faculties. Average? Nope! I'm alert to everything. Once it was that I saw the sights, heard the others in the group chatting and advising. I can still smell cotton jerseys and chamois cream and varying embrocation for your legs that went from mild through warm to Chernobyl. And now I'm switched on. I am above average because I'm NOT driving to the gym, my gym is the road. I'm a hate-figure, a smug git, cycling on roads belonging to cars and vans and impatient imbeciles. Imagine that! I'm above average because I make motorists think, react, respect. There's not much out there that can do that today. But I still have time to smell the Roundup, turned earth, slurry, spilt diesel, dead badgers and rain. I hear hidden running brooks, birds and the hum of milking parlours. And I feel; Sun on my skin. Cold air, rain on my bare shins... In fact I feel... ABSOLUTELY UNFREAKIN-BELIEVABLY ALIVE!!!!!!!!
Am I above average in your estimation yet??? What about day to day? I'm not awesome. Nobody is. But I'm striving. Cycling has given me a sense of humour. Mostly as a cyclist you'll end up laughing at yourself or someone else. Near death experiences make you (eventually) laugh at the grim reaper. A bunch of like-minded individuals shooting the breeze will inevitably lead to laugh-out-loud moments. Endorphins make everyone happy. So if I cycle vigorously and load up on them, I've basically been given the key to God's crackhouse, haven't I? If I try to make you laugh I'm just divvying out the goods.
A good friend said "energy makes energy". Bloody right! So when I'm out pounding the roads, trampling tarmac, ace-ing asphalt, I'm really a human perpetual motion machine, creating energy to get me through all the other challenges life flings. I'll never be that flat-on-my-butt dude that won't go outside with the kids. Cycling makes me want to exercise more. Thats above average. Most dudes my age have jelly for organs and tempranillo for blood. And soon their personality reverts to that negative, poor-mouth old-fart setting. An often irreversible affliction.
My shop of choice is a bike shop. The weather forecast is the only news I need. My friends talk about PSI, carbon weaves and watts. I shave my legs knowing it'll help fight infection if I fall. Not because I'm perverted. My chosen sport transcends age, place of birth, any class system, politics, creed or past. I am addicted to, beholden and sworn to my above average life. An ordinary life is extraordinary as a consequence. Come and join ordinary Joe's gym. It's free. It'll set you free. And it's anything, anything but average.
