It's time to go play with my friends

Today as I drive down to Pietermaritzburg to register for the Race To Rhodes starting tomorrow I have no illusions about the state of my physical preparedness - or unpreparedness as it stands. I have had five easy rides since finishing the Race To Cradock three months ago. Two of those in the last week. So little riding in fact that I think I saw the last vestige of a cycling tan disappear down the drain when I showered this morning. This pink body is going to put through its paces over the next few days. I cling to the hope that the body will follow where the head and heart lead. 

When on the trail the solitude and feeling of companionship combine in a complex mélange of emotions. You are never alone on the trail. Physically perhaps, but there is a community of followers and fellow riders who follow along and live vicariously through your exploits. 

I remember as a child going out to play with my friends under strict instructions from Mom to be home before it got dark. As eventide approached there was always a heightened sense of enjoyment born of the knowledge that you were pushing boundaries. The fun interspersed with regular glances toward home in the full knowledge that you were out beyond curfew. It all came to an end when you were unceremoniously dragged off home and admonished for not listening. The defence of "but I didn't know it was dark because the street lights were on" falling on deaf ears. 

I really do feel like a kid going out to play with my friends. The trail is our playground and we finally get to stretch the fun out way beyond sunset. Sorry Mom, I am going to be home well after dark.