With 2014 breathing its last wheezing gasp and my fast bloating and aged body stuffed full of every type of foodstuff and drinkstuff imaginable ( I just caught a glimpse of my planet eclipsing midriff in the mirror as I returned from yet another foray to the Boxing day kitchen table) it is time to take stock, to get a grip, to take myself (if you'll forgive the phrase) in hand, and there's plenty there to grasp! Like untrodden snow (I use the simile because of tonight's weather forecast), the pristine year lays ahead of us, and it mocks us; that is to say, it mocks me.
I know the way of it you see. I will start in cold, wet and downright hellish January with the fitness level of an asthmatic MacDonalds loyalty card holder. I will labour along at the back of a peloton of two, liberally sprayed with slush and slurry, snot running down into my shoes and semi-detached blisters forming on my arse. I will lay in the bath afterwards trying to massage some feeling back into my blue and white 'Willow Pattern' toes and then immediately regret the return of sensation as it quickly turns to bleating agony. My BMI will slowly reduce to a level comparable with Peter Kay and, encouraged, I will battle on, upping the speed and mileage and as a consequence the depth of shite-crust.
By the early Spring I'll be foolish enough to get talked into the season's first sportive and by early Summer I'll almost be fit enough to ride one. Three days later, Summer will draw to a close and the long plummet to the condition in which I find myself now will begin again. There will of course, be a day when I stand atop a cat' 4 climb and I'm not sucking oxygen in through my backside but that's what it will be - a day.
On the up-side, there will be new kit to buy - shiny precious things and there will be the new Tour De Yorkshire to watch in May - the traditionally pissy-down Firkin month! So, in the end -another exciting year of cycling to look forward to - Bring it on!