“it’s not a race”

A Saturday clubrun and a genteel spin through yon countryside, car-boots, hills and Cafés.
It’s good to spin the legs and chat not gossip mind that’s woman’s work.
 Any worries drift from thought as the wheels turn and with it the chatter fades as the road tilts, slowing legs & quicken the blood.The group ascends the drag in unison.I lie any club rider will tell you there is always one who will push on with no outward sign of strain compelling the rest to follow until the union is broke or as happen on the Jubilee weekend someone jumps off the front causing a few to give chase while others tut,”it’s not a race”.

I put my hands up,my legs were restless having chased back to the group earlier after waiting for someone who left his helmet at the bus stop
(club meet point) to busy gossiping talking?
Then getting stuck behind a truck in the car-boot traffic.

Truth be known I enjoyed stretching the legs and it wasn’t just me.A smaller group of us went the High Moor way and down Hunters.
Feeling good I was on the front most of the way to the café only to be beat to the 30 sign but lucky not to be in the hedge after a touch of gloves as they sprinted passed.
Then time for a nice hot coffee and relax at the café.

Most then head straight for home leaving six or so to put a couple of hills in before doing the same.


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