If it wasn’t for the cycling, I’d go mad.
8July 18, 2011 by welshcyclist
We all know that life isn’t a bed of roses, as they say. They? That means us, I suppose, well you get my drift.
The truth is I’m stressed, taut as a compressed spring. So much happening to try and cope with, on work, family, and personal fronts. Without my cycling I would, truely, be stark staring bonkers.
I’ve just glanced through my works diary, it’s mainly used to tell me what shifts I’ll be working each week, but I’ve taken to recording when I commute each day, in turn that gives me an idea of how many miles I’ve pedalled.
Since 10th February this year I’ve cycled 3,040 commuting miles, alone. Without those hours, approximately 2.5 hours for each of the 76 days I’ve commuted by bike, that’s a total of 190 hours, I would not be sane.
Just examining and comparing the total hours with those achieved by round the world cyclist who did 100 miles per day, on average, that 190 hours would have seen me cycle an eigth of the world’s circumference. That’s alot of miles to stay compus mentis, but undoubtedly that’s the price I must pay, and I suppose it has got to be alot cheaper than using a psychiatrist.
Yes, I do know, this all sounds so melodramatic, and I guess talking about my sanityand psychiatrista is way over the top, especially when I sit back and think how some people suffer, but we’re all guilty of using the wrong yardstick of comparison, at one time or other. I just wish I could get on top of my world, and be in control, instead of reacting, usually in the worst possible way, to the events of the day, week, etc..
Basically, I believe, I haven’t grown up yet. 60 and still a boy!!! Great, would it be true, far too much grey in the barnet for that to be true, but I’m “Talking ’bout my generation, My generation…..”, as the “Who” famously sang. I seem to meander along in total chaos, everyone else seems sorted, while I appear to be going back to square one? What is it with me?
Perhaps, I really am cracking up.
Welshcyclist's Weblog 
Welcome to my world…………… when you find the route to enlightenment, please let me have the map so I can join you………
Well done on all that cycling
As far as I can tell from my own experience, what you’re experiencing is absolutely normal. I’m 65 in three days’ time and have exactly the same ‘symptoms’. It would be nice, I imagine, to be ‘grown up’, but I don’t think it’s ever going to happen. If you DO get there, let me know how it feels!
Regards
Nick
By the way Happy Birthday for tomorrow, I won’t be blogging, keep pedalling. Cheers.
I’ll be sure to let you both know when I get there! I was going to say ” Hope I die before I get old!”, but too I’m scared. I have the distinction, only in the factual sense, because I’m not afforded any priviledges, of being the oldest by at least 15 years, where I work. It’s all male, so I get alot of ribald comments about my great age. But what is old today? I feel great, touch wood, now that phrase is a sign of age. Hopefully 60 is the new 80, and 80 the new 100? What do you reckon, just as long as we’re never too old to pedal, eh? What do you say, Tim and Nick?
Well I am the youngest of the 3 of us at 51, I went to a concert last year and as we were waiting to go in and take our seats I was looking around at my fellow concert goers and wondering why all the old farts were going to see Mark Knoffler (ex Dire Straits), it was the sudden realisation that I was also one of those old farts.
Sod the the number I will keep doing what I can for as long as I can regardless of what my number is……..
Old fart, where have I heard that before? Usually, it has “grumpy” in front. I agree with you though it’s hard to believe that we’re as old as all those other farts! What’s more they really look stupid playing air guitar, while we look thoroughly pro!
I’ve been the oldest where I work (sorry, worked – got to get used to that) for many years. In the advertising business, employees tend to be young, so for years I was known as ‘the world’s oldest copywriter’. And for a number of years I probably was too. But it didn’t matter much, once I got used to the idea (and the taunts).
Who gives a toss what “age” you are. It’s how you think and act that counts. I’m still 15! But I am actually 47 as wifey keeps reminding me after yet more tales of MTB fun…