I used to harbor a simmering resentment of cycling and cyclists.

Not the Tour de France types or the ones that hammer it round and round and round a velodrome in a gravity and death-defying chase of sporting glory. Nor did I bear any grudge against competitive BMX riders or those that cycle around forests and up and down slippery, mud covered hills.

Whether they be Olympic standard or simply enthusiastic club athletes, these sportsmen and women have my utmost respect – I do so admire their fitness levels, not to mention their bravery.

No, it was the casual cyclists who piqued my ire. You know, the ones that think they’re road-racers or cyclocross champions; the ones who seemingly enjoy the challenge of pulling on a tight, elasticated pair of luminous cycling shorts despite having an arse the size of a small, Baltic state.

Come on – don’t say you’ve never thought the same.

My festering bitterness had grown over the initial years of my Petcare / Dog Walking business when I’d walk several dogs along an old single-track railway line that had been converted to a public access path.

Those words, ‘public access’ seem straightforward enough to me. Try as I might, I still can’t see them being an anagram for ‘cyclists only.’ Can you?

Those darned cyclists somehow thought so, however.

‘Rude’ and ‘aggressive’ are another two words that spring immediately to mind – and I have say, the cyclists weren’t much better either.

‘Sunday cyclists’ as I call them were just as bad. Clearly lacking the physical attributes of the wannabee Olympians on the ‘cyclists only public access path,’ they moved at a much slower and leisurely pace, often riding two abreast and holding up all the traffic behind them.

Aaaargh!!

But wait! That was then – this is now.

Having been required to give up my driving licence for eight months following a Sudden Cardiac Arrest and subsequently being fitted with an ICD implant, I had to join that merry band of cyclists. I bought a bike so I could get to at least some of my clients and bring in an income of sorts.

I also bought a brightly colored, reflective, hi-viz jacket; natty helmet; lights; drinks bottle; tool kit (which I’m too stupid to use); puncture repair kit (ditto); padlock and drink bottle.

I stopped short of the tight, elasticated pair of luminous cycling shorts – despite having a qualifying-sized arse.

Crikey! As the band James sang in their 1990 hit, ‘Come Home‘:
‘After thirty years I’ve become my fears – I’ve become the kind of man I’ve always hated.‘

I belong to ‘them’ now. I’m one of ‘them.’

I’ve crossed to the dark side … yet, somehow, I can now see the light.

Much respect to fellow cyclists out there – you brave all weathers; grin and bear acute saddle-soreness (unless perhaps your arse is the size of a planet) and you face death on a daily basis.

I’m not exaggerating.

Car, lorry and bus drivers for the most part are respectful and considerate in leaving space when overtaking; most will wait patiently for the ten seconds it takes for you to signal right and move out.

Alarmingly though, many will not. These are likely the same drivers that think they can accelerate out from a junction when a cyclist is only ten to fifteen metres away and travelling at twenty miles and hour.

An added hazard these days is the increasing number of virtually silent, electric cars on the road which sneak up behind the unsuspecting cyclist, before signifying their presence with a sharp ‘toot’ of the horn and gliding past.

“Holy c***! What was that … ??!!”

I know – I’ve done a full 180, but what’s that saying about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes? Or cycling in their saddle.

Yeah – from resentment to respect.

This morning, I got my driving licence back, which is what prompted this post. I’m obviously happy to have back the convenience my car offers, but I’ll definitely still be making use of my bike.

I wouldn’t wish the circumstances that led to my cycling enlightenment on anyone. Truly though, it would be good if all drivers of motor vehicles had to spend just one day of each year travelling by bike as part of their licence conditions.

It would also be good if cyclists could spend a day in English class and learn the meaning of the words ‘public access path.’

And maybe buy some shorts that actually fit them.

😀

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