You find me coming to the end of a job which I loved, though I muddled through. Still, young people began to enjoy cycling because of me, and the groups I helped will continue after I’ve gone, for example at Coast Cycling.
You find me uncertain and insecure of my future job or career. The need to live and provide and participate weighs heavily when I don’t know how I’ll do it.
You find me at the start of a beautiful relationship which I deliberately call time-out upon, so that on my return I might understand it better.
You find me planning a bike ride through France and into Spain, sleeping wild but not rough in the dead of winter, perhaps as pilgrimage, or purely as challenge; as a search of the soul as much as discovering a place.
You find me wondering about kit to take, borrowing what I can’t afford, (thanks to Davy for the 1990s Dawes Super Galaxy…) trying to remember if I have a passport, or where it might be.
I hope to realise that I deserve the happiness I feel. I hope to settle an unsettled mind and rest a restless soul. I hope I can feel my fingers and dry my clothes. I hope you’ll join me.