Time trial
It’s the first day after a long summer holiday. I’m on my bicycle again. I never clock my rides. I know that it takes me between 40 and 50 minutes to commute. It depends on traffic lights, wind, and my mood.
On my way back home I notice that the lights in the city are all working in my favor. I also remember that I left the bike parking lot at 17:07. When I pass the last traffic light, I start talking to myself: today we’re going to be home at 17:47.
That was quite a bet. In the morning my legs felt like they were still in holiday mode. I don’t think I’ve ever exited the tunnel as slowly as I did this morning. But now, when racing out of the tunnel, I kept standing on my pedals for a while and made sure not to lose too much speed.
On the last straight stretch in the polder—the wind is not helping, nor is it troubling me—I give everything I have when my clock tells me it’s 17:45. With just two minutes on the clock, will I be able to finish in time?
In the meantime I’m deciding for myself where to put the finish line. When can I call my attempt a success? I put the imaginary finish line at the beginning of our garden path.
In my head I count to ten six times in order to make myself feel the time as best I can. The long straight section is almost behind me when I see my clock jump to 17:46 (it doesn’t show seconds). I still have a bit of street to go. A bend to the right, then a left, a sort of crossing, and then halfway down the street a turn right into my garden.
Usually I get up and cycle the last stretch hands-free, but this time, of course, I keep pedaling.
I stopped counting. I don’t know where I left off, but I feel like I should be able to make it. If I don’t make it now, it will feel like losing. Just a little longer. Please clock, don’t jump now. I unclip from the pedals, ride up my garden path and put my feet on the ground. Yes. Made it.
A few seconds later, just before I put my bicycle in the shed, the clock jumps to 17:48. Lovely ride. The satisfaction is huge. The holiday is over. We’ve started again.