Something about who…

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Riders ready

This is┬áme. This is also my bike. This is me with my bike. Sometimes we go places together. When we do, my bike doesn’t complain, but I do. I complain that the saddle hurts my arse, and that the constant pedalling makes me tired. I complain about the wind noise in my ears and about being too hot, too cold, too slow or about the road surface or hills, or headwinds or cars. I often wish I had a more flashy, lighter, expensive bike. My bike secretly wishes I wasn’t such a whinging git… It never says so though….

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