A little bit back to front...

Going to talk about today, then cover the last few in another post, hopefully later this evening.

Generally though, it hasn't been a good couple of days. Relationship problems on top of changing drug dosages had led to a mood that, at best, was... cloudy?

I went into Leeds this morning. The plan was to meet up with an old friend. Unfortunately she couldn't make it, and I was feeling worse and worse about other things. I wandered around. Bought a couple of magazines, (new Singletrack magazine looks like a great read. Couldn't really concentrate enough to read the proper articles, but the Lakes piece looks particularly interesting). Drank lots of coffee.

Sat on the bus home. I know a lot of people hate public transport, but I love it. Genuinely think it is a great way to get around. Admittedly, it is less fun when I'm commuting everyday using it, but for everything else, it makes it feel more like a "trip" than a job. Sat on the top deck, staring out, somewhat zombie like. Ipod on. I was probably one of those annoying people that have headphones bleeding tsk, tsk, tsk. Sorry. I'm not normally like that.

I had an overwhelming urge to ride a bike. Any bike really. It wasn't just riding though. I wanted to cause myself as much pain as possible. Ride as hard as I could until my legs refused to turn another pedal. Until I passed out with oxygen deprivation, or simply just spontaneously combusted. It would certainly make an interesting sight for my fellow road users. A raging ball of flames, hopefully leaving a 'Back to the Future' style tyre track in my wake.

Home. Change quick before the urge leaves me. Jump on the CX bike. No warm up. No gentle spin to get the blood moving. Pump, pump, pump out the door. A reassuring, soft, tunk, tunk, tunk as the chain moves down the cassette.

My lungs haven't caught up with my legs and I'm invincible for a minute. Then the realisation, that, actually, I might need to breathe soon. Quite a lot. Lungs begin to rasp for air. Ugly, deep breaths. I need this. I settle into a rhythm of sorts, but I'm more than aware that I'm pushing harder than normal. I need this. Seriously thirsty. Hmm... I've only had 3 coffees today. Excellent hydration preparation. Suck on water bottle between breaths. Spill lots. Classy.

Tyres hit the sand of Otley Chevin. I pedal harder. Carve my way round corners. Knee out, straight on the power. Stay in the drops, ruin myself on the climbs. I can taste blood at the back of my throat. Twinges of cramp are appearing already. Hmm... that'll be my hydration strategy bearing fruit. A quick figure of eight and I'm back on the road. No warm down, just head down, power back. No dabbing brakes, no easing up. I need this.

Home. Endorphins are rushing. And I feel normal. My life is still a mess. I know that I'm still a mess. But for an hour, all I had to deal with was physical pain. I didn't think, I didn't worry. I didn't want to hide or disappear. Self harm. Sometimes, it's good for you.