rain bike


Sometimes my heart breaks and my throat chokes up when i have memories of you. It’ll be a small thing like tonight i was walking with my bike in the rain and all i could remember was one of the last times i spoke to you in real life. That time i biked all the way to your house because I needed to have some closure. But after talking in your backyard for a bit, it started raining. I just remember waiting for my bus with you and I remember you giving me a hug for the very last time. At that moment…I didn’t feel anything so I knew I was over you. But in my head it seems so sad. Like we were really giving it all up and I cant believe I didn’t cry in the rain. 

It’s hard to recollect the things I felt for you. But because I pushed all of them away, they keep coming back in bursts and I hate it because I know I’m over you but the part of my heart that still cares breaks a thousand times more because of these memories. 


Hi friends!! Sorry I’m bad at updating when I’m not training haha

Things have been good though! I’ve started running regularly again, although keeping it short and easy for now. I went to the group run on Wednesday this week and thankfully it was just a group run and not speed work :)

I’ve also been trying to bike more, but the weather here has been shit lately, so that makes things harder. But hopefully that changes soon!

This weekend the town that I live in had a bike festival for the 14th year. It’s a great weekend full of all kinds of biking! I watched a few crit races today and some BMX stuff yesterday. I love this festival because it gets people learning about biking and helps promote a safe bike environment :)

And that’s about all I’ve been up to! Nothing too exciting :)

Humans are weird rain

I was biking home to and from work one day and it was raining HARD the whole day. Unfortunately I couldn’t find bus fare so I had to bike the weird thing was that I saw a bunch of people biking and walking in this same storm that got me thinking on how we tell Mother Nature to suck it on such a frequent basis that we don’t think it that weird to go out where we are cold and miserable and just shrug it off
I want to see a story that plays on that

Alone at last.

So this is what it feels like to be alone:

Not the noisily alone

In your room with a dinner party down below –

This is the day after a storm,

When the trees bow their boughs,

Burdened with the unbearable weight

Of a night of whiplashing deluge,

Silently listening to the solemn solitude of a

Crestfallen, ancient woods, where

Not a living breath is issued, but for

The watching souls of the trees.


The bow-trunked birches of Berkshire,

Suffering from their sordid soil

Would bend backwards for only an ounce

Of usable water and perfect dirt.

Instead, only a pitiful selection of things to give sustenance –

The poor’s libation, and the beggar’s mud

Which topples ever into the swallowing marsh around.