Missing the train
Pól Ó Muirí
It is amazing the way in which the sun and a good road bike brings out the racer in you. The hot weather over the weekend was the first time in a long while that I was able to leave the heavy gear behind and go out in shorts and t-shirt. Needless to say, the heat (and no wind) makes cycling so much easier and I was soon speeding (relatively speaking) along. Of course, I was not the only one on the lovely highways and byways of Armagh and Antrim. Last night’s run was interrupted by the sound of a bell. I looked behind to see a local peloton of half a dozen cyclists tearing up the road behind. “Get on the train,” they shouted encouragingly, “get on the train.” Alas, had I started for the train the day before I could not have caught them and off they steamed. It was bad enough to realise that I did not have the legs to keep up with blades in their 20s and 30s but just as worse was the realisation that people might think I had been dropped! Insult to injury. Ah well, I got home – eventually.
(And best wishes too to all the riders who were injured in yesterday’s Rás crash. Hope they are all back on their wheels soon.)