Winter Miles

Winter miles are arguably the hardest of the season, waking up early doors checking the weather to find its 3 degrees and pouring with rain.  Ideal.  You have to love it, hauling your frame over even the smallest of lump can feel goliath, the rain beating down with a block headwind trying the add nails to the coffin.  Yet you go on, you plough through the fields and you love it.  Every second.  Every point you doubt yourself with a most feeble “Why?” and keep going is a minor victory.  When your legs are giving up and you still have 20 km to go.  It can crush a normal man, but you are not normal, there’s something special, why else would you be here?

The cruellest part of winter training isn’t the cold it’s the wind.  Yes the cold hurts your fingers, your feet slowly drain the heat from your toes but you can just go harder to keep warm, but the wind.  The wind is what does you in; it’s like carrying an anchor.  Are your brakes rubbing? Do you have a puncture? Why’s it so hard? It drains everything and there’s no hiding just you on the open road.

It’s the miles nobody sees that are what counts, no one sees you self-harming, the inner conflict between mind and legs, no one but you sees that.  And that’s all that matters really.  Your inner conflict, when it’s full gas in a race and riders are getting shelled it’s always easier to give up and call it quits but you won’t, you’ve put in the winter miles, you’ve done the hard work  and you can make it count