Smile uneasily while being dismayed that they’re all middle-aged
Remember, with profound disappointment, that you’re nearly thirty-nine
Swing between thinking you’re too cool and feeling distinctly un-hipster-y
Mount your borrowed bike, noticing too late that your saddle is tricycle-low
Regret the Tesco activewear
Consider – as sweat trickles down your crack – how life got so far off-track
Mourn the demise of your marriage (even though you’re better off alone)
Grapple with unfamiliar gears as your knees and elbows play pat-a-cake
Mutter a prayer for the drowning aphid sliding around your eyeball
Detect the scent of overboiled bratwurst… Realise it’s your polyester-mix armpits
Study the perfect behind of the woman in front
Visualise a blazing pyre for the Tesco activewear
Waffle about your absent son while trying not to cry…
Concede that Liv’s kids are obviously waaay more interesting
Skid on wet leaves into thick, nettly brambles while shrieking attractively
Grasp the clumsy hand of the Hot Nerd in Excellent Trainers
Retreat to unsniffable distance whilst complimenting his actually-not-gross activewear
Attempt, with nonchalance, to yank up your knee-high-to-a-salamander cycle seat
Sigh your relief when Hot Nerd timidly waggles his hex keys at you
Duck too late when he misjudges the trajectory of his toss
Cradle your throbbing eyeball while saying it’s fine
Smile genuinely and without dismay
Accept an invite to apology coffee
Settle yourself back in the saddle
Hold on
Let go.
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