Today I am sat at my desk with a heated wheat bag snuggling around my lower back. And similar to having a hangover this is a self-inflicted injury and therefore, by rights, I cannot complain!
I get more peeved on the bike than I ever do driving the car where I am a peaceful patient, laissez faire kind of a driver. It peeves me to see other cyclists disobeying the rules of the road. Specifically, riding through red lights. It doesn't make any sense to me at all.
So, this morning, a younger gent on a Cannondale bike walzes past me at red lights, waits briefly at the junction and then moves forwards across a lane at a time, all the while the lights are on red. And I see red. I see him accelerate, I see him reach cruising speed, the lights are now green and I change up a gear, I press on the pedals and suddenly there I am, in pursuit. I hover behind him, assessing his speed, decide that if I overtake him I can indeed continue to pull away and will not simply die a death and have the humiliation of him accelerating past me. And I do it. I'm dressed in pink. At the lights he's waved at a mate of his in the traffic queue. We have witnesses. Hopefully his nuts shrivelled as the move played out.
Later on, he did of course move past me again at red lights, and stay ahead as he went through two more sets of red lights. But the moral high ground is all mine.
Oh, and I seem to have slightly pulled a back muscle in my moment of chimped up competitiveness, but all is well, the physio has laughed at me, advised and loaned out the hot wheat bag thingy.
No comments:
Post a Comment