Monday, October 12, 2009

The Nina, The Pinta, The Santa Maria.

Like a lot of things, cycling is at its best when you're with a bunch of mates and none of you are taking it all that seriously. It's when you start to take it seriously that things get complicated. Lately I've been taking it seriously. And today things got a little complicated. I don't know enough about the politics - sitting around listening to blokes spin shit only jacks you in so far - but I do know that some fucking irritating and potentially impossible changes are about to happen to my plans for my immediate cycling future. And I also get the impression that my coach - who I've come to both like and respect quite a lot - is not responsible. No, it seems that the worst things about my profession - bureaucrats and administration and the allocation (or collection) of meager resources - also plague my passion. I'd been able to avoid it - and the accompanying meetings - almost completely til now. But like a shaving cut, it's just when you think you've avoided the pain that the blood starts flowing.

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