Burn out achieved.
I’m sat in a yurt in Belgium watching the rain teem down outside. I’m allowed to sit here for another three and a half hours before I have to move. Moving is the last thing I want to do. My body is just about capable, I’m not sure about my brain.
My bike is also not in the best of conditions. The rear wheel now has a pronounced wobble. Despite truing it yesterday the tyre is so worn that it’s lack of shape is now causing most of the movement. The bike still rumbles on though. My brain on the other hand?
I don’t know if it is thoughts of returning to the UK, the post tour blues arriving early. Or maybe something else. I started this whole year of riding due to a level of general malaise and it’s been brilliant. I could escape and forget about everything. However now reality bites. I need a rest but stopping is going to involve answering the ‘what next?’ question. People have already started asking it, it just makes me depressed.
Even trying to stay positive and mentally plan more tours and trips isn’t helping. The bit I need to pass through to get from here to there. The reality. The norm. A job? All of that is feeding the black dog. So coping is currently via routine. Wake up, pack up, cycle. Stop, pitch tent, sleep. That routine though will soon be at an end. New coping strategies required.
I am looking forward to seeing my friends and family but don’t expect me to be the life and soul of the party for a bit and please don’t ask me the dreaded question. If I seem quiet leave me be, but equally remember I might need someone there. Even if it’s just to listen to me whine or give me a hug. Thank you.
Postscript: I left when there was a break in the rain hoping the weather would improve. It didn’t until I reached Gent. I decided that I would treat myself to a hostel for the night even though it was insanely expensive.