And it feels good
Cycling is always pure bliss, and a balm for body and soul. Even when you are exhausted, even when you simply have had enough. Even when you have no energy left. Even when you count the kilometres and metres left until the end. Even when you are cold and hungry. Even when you cannot feel your arms, your legs, and your calves – and your backside! – any longer. Even when your hands are wrinkled after hours in the rain, and you cannot grip onto the handlebar or, even worse, engage the brakes. Even when your feet start to ache in your shoes. Even when the signposts seem to be the beads of an infinite praying bead. Even when you pray and it brings you nothing. Even when you try to cheer yourself up by telling yourself it is nearly over. Even when you set goals, your pace is so slow that a snail would do better. Even when your heart keeps pumping out water and not blood. Even when there is no more oxygen in your breath but only sweat and dirt. Even when your engine is worn down by fatigue. Even then. Even then, cycling is always pure bliss.