Masochist

Noun
masochist (plural masochists)

1. someone who enjoys pain, or who derives pleasure from harming oneself or being harmed by others

 It dawned on me today, that there's clearly something wrong with me, besides my haircolour. Throughout hillclimb season, I was forever telling people how much I was looking forward to the end, and the prospect of long, slow base miles, rolling around pretty, flat, leafy lanes. Whilst I've eaten many a fry up and cake since then, the acts of cycling I've been involving myself with have been intriguing ones. Don't get me wrong, the concept of not having to go training is a refreshing one, however, not a particularly entertaining one.

 I've been on a mission to hunt out club rides, because, predictably at this time of year, people want a relaxing ride around at the weekend. What I seem to have overlooked though, is that no matter how large the group of sensible cyclists, it only takes one person with a point to prove to ruin the day, and to launch a solo attack. Now, prior to november, I always blamed my need for chasing attacks up hills on the tricolour stripes which bound my chest. But since then, and the removal of said jersey, it became apparent that there was more to it. If someone accelerates uphill, my stem seems to become a fishing rod, with the attacker hooked on the end of the wire. They are then reeled in and dealt with. So, my need for chasing attacks was nothing to do with the jersey, and in fact is just a subconscious habit then? Not quite.

 Today, no-one attacked, it was just a pleasant ride around the Surrey hills. Well, I say no-one, there may have been one person, on a bright orange bike. Upon arrival at the top, after launching an attack 1.5 miles from the summit of a hill with max gradient of 23%, gasping for breath and trying desperately to restore clear vision to my eyes, a little thought went through my mind: The next event that i'm targeting is in March. I have months of winter ahead of me, what the hell am i doing? Further into the ride, I put the experience down to spur-of-the-moment silliness and tried to forget about and relax on the ride home, have a chat to some of my uni clubmates, and enjoy the event for the social occasion that it was supposed to be. Whilst on the warm down into Guildford, i encountered another oddity. Saying that, 'another' implies that it was somehow different, it wasn't, just another hill, on which i would find myself turning my lungs inside out and tearing my legs to shreds.

 So when I arrived home, I googled 'people who enjoy pain'. It turns out that there's an official condition to describe such lunacy, so now i can associate myself with another strange minority. Hooray.