Putting my foot down

The other morning, as I was cycling up the fell in the dark, wind and rain, I suffered the indignity of having to put one of my feet to the ground, to maintain stability. A small thing, I know, but embarrassing to a cyclist who likes to think of himself as proficient. I know I found it embarrassing as I caught myself looking around to see if anyone had witnessed this shameful lapse. Given that it was 7am, dark, wet and deserted, that seemed unlikely. But clearly, I wanted to be sure.

Then I cycled on, wondering whether this was a sign that I was really getting too old for this cycling malarkey. I skidded in some deep mud, and put my foot down again.  Another furtive glance around to check there were no witnesses.  

And so up the steep part towards the summit of my local hill, pondering gloomily on how that was twice - and I had not previously had to do such a thing for ages... I was so deep in thought, indeed, that I went too near a sharp dip and my bike slipped from under me, and I fell off. The indignity!  I didn't hurt myself: the hill was steep, and the headwind strong so I was going slowly; and the mud was soft. And by now I was pretty certain that there was nobody about, let alone with the infra-red technology that would have enabled them to see me. But still, the shame!

Me in the mud (in the dark)

As I cycled back home, still brooding, I realised that there was a bright side: it would give me something to blog about this week - and I hadn't done a cycling blog for some time.  Further, it was a perfect metaphor for... what?  I was really clear at the time, but now the memory eludes me. You will have to construct your own meaning or metaphor, as I simply can't recall the pithy wisdom that I had generated. 

Maybe I'm getting too old for this blogging malarkey.