Tales of a cyclist: Part 1 - In the beginning...

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Choose Life. Choose commuting. Choose public transport. Choose fucking extortionate train fares. Choose being late. Choose not showing up at all. Choose frustration. Choose inconvenience. Choose being a sheep, stuck in a steel tube being dragged off to market. Choose rotting away each and every day, completely absorbed in your own self indulgent smartphone fueled bubble.

Choose your future.

Choose cycling.

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Lets start by saying that I am finally a cycling evangelist but boy was it a hard, pothole filled, road to get here. This is my story...

Last year I up and decided to give Scotrail the proverbial finger and purchased myself some cost effective freedom, a bicycle. Following years of contempt toward public transport, for me this was an easy decision. After all an unfit 30 year old best suited to being slumped on the couch with a remote in one hand and a bag of Sensations in the other; a 20 mile round trip everyday on public roads braving the Scottish elements, what could possibly go wrong?

The first ride...

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My bike and gear arrived mid week by courier, I was like a kid at Christmas. I diligently unwrapped each separate parcel, all the while thinking:

"Yes! I am no longer at the mercy of an unreliable transport service. I am the master of my own destiny."

I straightened the handlebars and attached the pedals and that was it my chariot was fit to go.

In hindsight it would probably have been wise to wait for the weekend and do a reconnaissance mission. Especially considering I hadn't been on a bike for almost 15 years. But I was just too excited!

So the next morning I awoke early, ready and raring to go. Donned my newly purchased lycra, it felt like I was working in a sausage factory squeezing meat into their casings, it was not a good look. Immediately I regretted my decision but deemed it too much effort to pry myself out of it.

I put on my helmet, new shoes, gloves and said my goodbyes. I was ready, ready for the open road, ready for some freedom.

The first 2 miles were like a dream all downhill with the wind at my back, I felt like Bradley Wiggins. That is until I reached the first set of traffic lights. What I previously neglected to mention the peddles that I had attached the night before were clipless. For those of you who don't know, clipless actually means clipped in. These specific clipless pedals had a setting which makes it easier or harder to detach your foot and needless to say they were in super glue mode.

I reached the lights, a huge queue of patiently waiting cars were to my right. I tried to detached my left foot, at that very moment I knew I was doomed, I knew I had sealed my fate and had to accept the hit. Everything went into slow motion, I could sense all of the commuters eyes on me as I came crashing to the floor. I took it like a man, but now I was stuck, turtle on its back stuck. The lights turned green and every sodding car went past pointing and pissing themselves laughing, not one person came to help, where was that world renowned Scottish hospitality? I eventually managed to break free, I dusted myself off and got back to it.

Arrived at work absolutely exhausted, soaked in sweat but worst of all with a large dent in my pride. I chalked it up as right of passage, after all I couldn't give up now, I had just spent all that money...

Continue to Part 2 - The catherine wheel