30 November 2011

Riders on the Storm

There's a price to be paid for a morning ride to the station in glorious, unseasonal sunshine: it's the ride back home in the evening, three hours after darkness fell, with the wind blasting what feels like sleet at you. But the feeling of righteousness, well-being, downright superiority, over those unfortunates who don't understand the romance of self-propulsion that you feel at the station on the way to work in the morning is the best part of all.

Even better: I left the office to walk back to Paddington this evening, breaking into a jog as I crossed the road, purely with a view to getting out of the way of the traffic - and it felt so good, I didn't stop (except for junctions) until I reached Paddington. That's the way it should be.

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