Bikes, road bikes, is Pete's sport. I'm just a pretender, enthusiastic, but amateurish. And a bit rubbish. Then there's James...a newbie. I don't think it matters. If we were running, then there's a similarity, a familiarity and a common end point. We get it. But when push comes to shove...on our first ride together as a three, on a Friday evening in low light, wind and rain, on the main road between Macc and Knutsford...with the lorries, tractors and impatient commuters eager to get home and warm...it's clear the honeymoon period was coming to an end.
It reminded me of one of the 'character building' bypass runs, but this time with the added vulnerability of not only battling the elements, but managing a level of fear and the sense that we, James and I, were foolish to have suggested it in the first place. We didn't get it. Pete wasn't impressed. A pile of the wettest washing and a curious taste of road grime on the lips...oh, and feet that are still recovering, are the tangible trophies of the ride. This morning...another story altogether. But there's one thing on my mind...2 weeks today and I can start running. YES.
