Tag: down

#365daysofbiking Hello darkness my old friend

August 26th – it was a dreadful, wet day and I still wasn’t well. I was busy at home with things that had needed doing for ages, and I slipped out after dark for a spin around a dripping, sodden town.

I hate this weekend, every year; it’s OK if the weather’s good and you can ride, but if it’s grey and horrible it’s so depressing. It always feels like the end of summer, even if it’s nowhere near.

Riding was actually good, and the somnambulant town was quiet in the gathering night. With the new houses, Church Road is probably the most atmospheric it’s been for years, and Coppice lane wears it’s loneliness like an old jacket.

Still can’t get a night photo of Morris I’m happy with, though…

August 11th – It’s silly, I know. I’m being ridiculous. I’m aware that it’s just my overreaction to the sudden lack of sunshine. But today, I was sad. I was ill with the IBS and I was pining for summer, for in the gloom which would, in any other year be normal, I started to pine for summer.

It’s ridiculous. I feel deep down like summer has ended and that’s it.

I took a short circuit round Brownhills, late. The rain came on heavily. For once, being out made me sad, not happy. The greyness had flooded into me. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up and sleep.

The brightness was there, though: In the poisonous white bryony in the hedge at Home Farm, Sandhills, and in the yellow water flowers near Newtown.

But even they couldn’t lift me. I went home, listened to sad music and went to bed early.

July 17th – Following the news of the sad loss of fellow blogger and friend The Plastic Hippo, today was difficult, sad and low. He followed this journal avidly.

I fought through it, and carried on. But it was hard.

I never realised that you could feel such loss for someone you knew so little about.

As I climbed the steps from Shenstone station, the sky was dramatic and beautiful. And beneath it, I was hollow.

Goodbye, pal. 

June 16th – A lost day with bike repairs when everything went wrong. Slipping out on a test ride as darkness fell, I hit Silver Street and Catshill Junction, and realised I’d forgotten just how much the G7X camera loves the twilight.

A dreadful day, but a bit of a ride in the glorious even cool was just what I needed.

April 13th – I rode to work in steady rain heavy hearted. It’s not often I say this but the morning had no redeeming features I could find; it was wet, cold and very, very unlike spring. 2013 was a pretty bad spring, starting very late with heavy snows in the dying days of March like this one. But at least the sun came out and things dramatically improved. 2018 has tested even my usually stoical resolve, I must say.

Rolling through Kings Hill on an errand mid morning, everything was headache-grey – the roads, the buildings, the sky.

It’s rare I feel so bleak about the weather.

February 14th – What an awful day.I battled into Walsall against an evil headwind. I had a hospital appointment that took forever, and when I came out there was heavy rain.

I arrived at work soaked and grumpy.

The way home was just as rain-soaked, but at least the wind was assisting me.

Cycling at the moment is a real challenge. I can see spring. I can taste it. It’s in the light, the flowers, the landscape. But this bad weather seems endless.

I will of course hang in there. But my goodness, this is hard going.

February 3rd – A day without rain would be nice. So nice.

It rained all day, and I barely left the house; I had technical difficulties with some work equipment that kept me busy on a fool’s errand most of the afternoon, before it turned out the problem was not mine at all.

I got nothing done. I felt low and troubled and realised that although physically better, I’m still recovering and have the post-illness blues. I’m sure you know how it goes – you still have some climbing to do and the daily grind hasn’t stopped for you to hop back on and catch up.

I had to nip up Walsall Wood in the early evening on an errand. I got wet, it was cold and I felt every pedal stroke.

I know everything will improve, and I’ll slip back into the daily rhythm soon. But right now I feel spare and down.

October 14th – A terrible, awful down day marked by frustration, local tragedy and blustery, unfavourable weather. A late ride our to Chasewater taking in a loop of Brownhills rewarded me with suitably sombre views, the gathering dark gradually enveloping the town. 

Some days, you’re just glad to make it back to bed in one piece.

October 5th – A headache-grey, overcast and unpleasant day that was as grim and hard to face as the weather on the commute. Work is challenging at the moment and leaving me incredibly tired, day after day.

I’ve never known a summer end so abruptly and just dive headlong into a grim, grey, lifeless autumn like this – yes, the fungi is plentiful and the trees beautiful; but day after day the grey, sunshineless gloom is hard work.

I need a holiday. Returning home via a gloomy Catshill Junction, I was, for once fed up of the view.

September 30th – A wet, miserable grey day when little went right and I really didn’t feel the love at all. I really needed to be out and get some air, but work was demanding and the conditions not conducive. I’m really missing that Indian summer I was hoping for.

In the early evening gloom with night descending, I popped out on some errands, and spun around Brownhills. In steady rain on the Pier Street bridge, I remembered how beautiful this place is in the darkness of even a wet, grey, loveless evening.