A few months ago, when a whole swathe of people who were important to me in my life all left town at once. One of my dearest friends moved to Adelaide; my former best friend moved to Berlin and an old boyfriend (who’d been staying with us) returned to the United Kingdom. Despite the varying levels of affection and ambivalence that marked those relationships, there was something about the successive farewell events, the act of saying goodbye, of knowing that there would be no more chance for personal redemption/reunion that really knocked me about. I wasn’t desolate, but somehow those days felt marked by sadness and loss. At the same time, things in the rest of my life were chugging along happily – the sun was shining and life, love and work were sweet and that contrast of joy and of bittersweet sadness made everything feel acute and emotionally intense.
I feel that way right now.
Bye bye Lance; just like my old boyfriend, I can’t say we were destined to be together but I feel a nostalgia and a sadness that things ended the way they did. Sometimes life is just regrets. But hell, we had some good times.
Bye bye Cadel; just like my former best friend, we’ve had a little animosity in the past and we’re not really “friends”, not even “facebook friends” – blame your ghost writers (and know I’m available). But – god dammit – I thought this might be your year. The boys from BMC were really working the peleton and I know you’ve got what it takes to keep the hills under control. Supported by a team who were willing to put in the requisite effort to shield you from the feints and attacks, I thought this could have been yours. I don’t know why the media keeps saying you were close to tears – why isn’t it perfectly acceptable to say that you just watched the bottom collapse out of your world, like a soggy wet cardboard box. I’d be crying too. I can’t even make it up the Boulevard some mornings, so that Madeleine bitch would have broken me too.
And maybe see you later Mick Rogers; I like you, we get along fine, I just thought I’d be seeing a lot more of you. Somewhere up in the General Classification. Stepping out from the shadow and getting what the good guys deserve. Moving from 10th to 14th – almost exactly like moving to Adelaide.
And then, the confusion. The joy. The elation. The electric boogaloo. Contador eating his twentieth food gel. Schleck taking a bear out with one punch. Up the Madeleine and smashing it. Jens giving the road Jens rash. For some the highs. For some the lows.
The emotional barometer.
Emotions.
(images: cycling tips; cycling news; cycling ether)
eleanor j jackson 