Analogikal

The Easy

The weather is nice. There is a gentle breeze and a cloud cover. The roads are empty. Every road you take is a downhill. The wind is always in your favour. Your tyres are fully inflated and your water bottle is full. The roads are without bumps and you are floating on a cloud. You don’t have to shift a single gear. Your earphones have battery and it starts playing the ride friendly music you have been humming since you got up. You look at the birds and the flowers and contemplate about the simpler joys of life. You smile at people passing by. Life has never been better. You wonder if things are ever going to be this good again. 

The Moderate

It’s a little sunny. You can wear a pair of shades. There is a gentle breeze blowing against you. You wear the tighter riding jacket for the aerodynamics. You also feel conscious about your paunch. Every downhill has a larger than proportionate uphill at the end of it. The up-hills are paved with loose rubble and unpredictable animals. Momentum abandons you every now and then. After your third up-hill, your water bottle starts running dry. You cannot find the music to set the mood for the ride. You feel that your tyre is under-inflated. There is enough traffic to make you feel scared for your life. There’s sweat all over your face. It starts seeping through your riding jacket. You are always in the wrong gear combination. Your legs feel the pain with every pedal. Life is great. You hope nothing changes. 

The Hard

It’s pouring cats and dogs. Or may be it’s hot AF. Sunglasses and raincoats are both wrong choices. You are hungover from the night before. Inflating your tyres takes a day and half and a dislocated shoulder because you only have the small handpump. There are no downhills in sight. It’s just one up-hill after another. You are getting all your gear ratios wrong. You have forgotten to fill your bottle with any fluids. Your earphones are out of juice. There are cows riding cars trying to run you off the road. There are actual cattle on the road. Dogs chase you when you are at the end of an up-hill. The lactic acid build-up is unreal. You can taste the sweat.  Your legs want to give up. Your mind has already given up. You are smiling. You hope this never ends. 

The Fuck This!

There is a headwind. You only have an up-hill ahead of you. At the middle of the up-hill is a set of speed bumps. You have forgotten your jacket, goggles, earphones and water bottle. It is just you and your cycle. It is raining. It is also hot. It is dry as well as humid. The air is dusty and the sun is in your face. You get a puncture. You fix a puncture all the while cursingyour luck. Every car passes too close to you. Your legs are cramping up. There is no end to the up-hill. You look up. The sun is burning down on you. You look down. The cycle is still moving. You let a smile escape your lips. You are grateful. 

Till next time. 

PS: All cyclists are masochists. The ones who do not agree are also pathological liars.