For some reason it’s crept up on me this year. Perhaps it’s because the last eight months have gone past in a bit of a blur, with one month slipping into the next. Or it could be because the cycling season has only just ended, and the summer of racing ended up being in the autumn.
Either way, the temperatures are dropping and the mud seems to be deeper every day. With that comes a switch in my mindset when it comes to riding, and the long miles in the saddle have always come next. Except this time, they haven’t.
Although winter training has been a feature of my life for the past decade, and a pretty major one, I now have nothing to train for. I have officially hung up my race bike, and I doubt I’ll have time to take part in anything resembling a competitive event next year.
On the one hand this feels very liberating, and on the other it’s left me feeling at a bit of a loss. I’ve not stopped riding my bike entirely, but it does feel harder than ever to find the motivation to layer up and head out into the elements. It isn’t something I have to do anymore, so I only ride when I want too. This initially felt like a bad thing, but I can see now that it isn’t.
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