BrumJim
Forum Stalwart (won't take the hint and leave...)
- Location
- Selly Oak, Birmingham
I'm just back from holiday.
Last rode into work on Tuesday two weeks ago. Wednesday 29th arrived, and I spent all morning packing. Popped into the garage, but completely ignored the bike, and got the skis out instead.
For the next 10 days I was on holiday, leaving the bike hanging in the garage.
Then I came back. In previous years I have found an excuse to get on the bike immediately - maybe an errand to run or someone to visit. This year, just lots of unpacking, sorting, catching up. Monday arrives, and I'm back at work.
Except on the last day of my holiday I picked up a nasty flu-type bug. Limbs ached, substantial loss of energy, listless, energy-sapping cough, loss of appetite and a host of other unpleasant symptoms. But I needed to be in work on Monday, and felt a little better, so I drove in instead.
Came back, parked the car on the drive and walked past the garage doors to my front porch. And I swear I heard the sound of my bike sobbing with loneliness and rejection from behind the wooden panels.
Am feeling rather guilty now.
Last rode into work on Tuesday two weeks ago. Wednesday 29th arrived, and I spent all morning packing. Popped into the garage, but completely ignored the bike, and got the skis out instead.
For the next 10 days I was on holiday, leaving the bike hanging in the garage.
Then I came back. In previous years I have found an excuse to get on the bike immediately - maybe an errand to run or someone to visit. This year, just lots of unpacking, sorting, catching up. Monday arrives, and I'm back at work.
Except on the last day of my holiday I picked up a nasty flu-type bug. Limbs ached, substantial loss of energy, listless, energy-sapping cough, loss of appetite and a host of other unpleasant symptoms. But I needed to be in work on Monday, and felt a little better, so I drove in instead.
Came back, parked the car on the drive and walked past the garage doors to my front porch. And I swear I heard the sound of my bike sobbing with loneliness and rejection from behind the wooden panels.
Am feeling rather guilty now.
