Another year, nearly there
Kit laid out, checked all the spares
Checked tyres, spokes, links on chains
Bars straight, brake pads changed.
Dread this time though every year
Emphasising the tiniest fears
“Did I tighten that cassette?”
“What do I wear is it’s not that wet?”
Strangely though it’s somehow great
Knowing that by now it’s too late
Training is replaced with rest
Drinking water, keeping stretched.
No more working on those lines
Hopping storm drains twenty times
No more pounding up Bull Hill
What’s done is done – time to chill