Cycling

Cycling to work really is pretty amazing. It's taken me two days to get the timing right, and I'm still drying myself after a shower with a t shirt as well as drying my hair under the hand blower, but put these minor details aside and I'm doing it, I'm cycling to work and I'm loving it.

Waking up at 6:30am is pretty tough, fighting the inner demons that are telling you your warm car with heated leather seats will be so much better for your arse is a true test of character. As if simply getting out of bed wasn't tough enough, but to jump on a mountain bike and cycle ten miles to work...preposterous! Once I'm up and riding though, things are totally different,  the wheels are turning, the legs are working and the cobwebs are most certainly blown away. The heart starts to beat hard, blood is flowing into every part of my body, and it reminds me that I am alive, it's invigorating. Though not long into my journey that I'm feeling alive, I find my self fighting to stay alive all together.

Cars are heading towards me in all different directions, and when I finally hit the cycle path I find myself sharing it with other cyclists, pedestrians and various other animals from Pugs to Horses. Soon I am whizzing past everyone, angry motorists look on in disgust "How dare he overtake me on his pesky bicycle" - I can just imagine them thinking that whilst they are seething in their half mile long traffic jam. I drop a gear and pedal hard; I've got to look quick, I've got to look like I'm putting some serious effort in here!

I pull into work, a glorious sight, searching the car park in hope of someone spotting me and acknowledging my efforts, no one is looking on but this is a silent victory for me, I feel great. I walk into work proud of my efforts, sweaty, muddy, I look an absolute state amongst the suits but head held high with pride.

I packed a few shirts, boxers and socks in my bag so I wouldn't have to keep brining my bag, but I completely forgot to pack a towel! I realise this as I'm stood stark bollock naked in the changing rooms, no going back now. I strategically place a t shirt by the shower, this will be my make shift towel! From a triumphant high to an all time low...I'm completely naked and hunched under the hand drier trying to dry my hair with a t shirt askew on my back. I suddenly feel like a homeless person having a freshen up in public toilets.

This is the thing about cycling to work, you feel righteous and above everyone who has driven to work, yet at the same time you feel like a tramp living out of a plastic bag. At least my dignity is reformed when I don my shirt, trousers, shoes and tie and head up stairs to work. My colleagues are none the wiser, but inside I'm ecstatic with the days' events...and it's only eight in the morning!

So what are you waiting for...

Happy Birthday Dad.

I miss you more now than I ever have. Happy Birthday Dad.

MMXII

Quite a lot happened in 2012, yet at the same time it feels like quite a lot, well, didn't.

Let's see, I had more surgery on my shoulder, finally got back into riding bikes with a great deal of self control exercised, went through about five different jobs, bought a car, had a car crash, got a tattoo, made my first ever proper cake, told some secrets, spread dads ashes, had a photo shoot, swam in a freezing cold lake, started trampolining, bacame a pedi cab driver for a few months, oh and started 'dating', 'going out with' Natalie Walker; most certainly the best part of 2012.

There is still a niggling that 2012 was a year of preparation  I guess because I spent yet another four months rehabilitating my shoulder just so I could work, but also, I don't know, there was nothing in terms of holiday to look forward to or, actually I know what it was, it was the shit weather we had. Yet the more I think about 2012 the more memories I have of fun things, they all seem tainted though, but brilliant none the less.

The first part of the year really was a bit of a non starter. Another shit January morning the loss of Dad, followed by shoulder surgery and a frustrating few months at home, the 'summer' provided endless rain and back to back days of long hours in the van just to climb out of a bottomless pit of debt. That was until Nat and I properly started seeing each other, then everything suddenly became worth while and life had meaning again. Experiences are ten fold better when shared, and I am so great full I have such an amazing, caring, fun and beautiful girlfriend to share things with. So maybe then, 2012's purpose was simply a build up to 2013, which I think is going to be the best year in well, years.

This blog is now in it's forth year I believe, and it really is incomprehensible just how much bad luck I have had, and only believable when you flick back through the archive, but believe me it's all there, a life time of bad luck in a mere four years. But times are changing. Enough of talk before I jinx myself into more bad luck. Have a look at my highlights...

Goodbye 2012, you have served your purpose, Happy 2013.

Remembering my best friend and inspiration for everything in life was first on my list.

Freedom at last.

Sums up the trip with Foz.

Whitby at its greatest.

Shiny happy.

Go on number 1! Taken by Joe Horton.

Tour.

Lost...in a moment...somewhere.

Comeback.

A special day.

A resting place at last.

The Lakes.

Laughs.

Eye opener.

In deep.

Purpose.

Thanks everyone.