“Are you ready for Christmas?”

Sorry? What was that? Am I…..”Ready for Christmas”?

<sigh. My least favourite question>

No. No I am not. I am not ready for the festive stupidities. SORRY. Did I say that out loud? Freudian slip. I meant festivities.

I’m not ready for the endless parties, standing around, paying over the odds for another bad brew from another corporate behemoth. Making small talk. Listening to crap jokes. Avoiding discussions about sport (Yes, I ride. Yes, quite a lot. No, I haven’t done the mammoth big whopping uber road sportive. Yes, it sounds wonderful).

I’m not ready to write out even more cards nor buy lots more gifts for people that could probably do without them. I’m not ready for the re-run of the Morecombe and Wise Christmas special and I definitely won’t be watching ‘Die another Octo-finger’ on Boxing Day.

I am however, ready to spend real time with the people I care about. I am ready to see the smiles and hear the laughter at the kids club cycling party and the annual club dinner. I am ready to shed the clothes of a difficult year and take the air at any time of day. I am ready to ride my bike with the dawn chorus, watch the mist rise off the icy waters of the Taff, to ascend through the low clouds that stick to South Wales hills like cotton wool to Velcro. I am ready to put the soul back to where it really should be.

On balance, perhaps I am ready for Christmas.

Image via Syracruse Bicycle. I’m not that grumpy. Honest.

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