When the Rock n’ Roll Circus finally wheeled out of town in the early hours of Sunday morning, I dozed rather than falling into the hoped-for deep sleep. However, that said, I didn’t feel too bad when I got up and I was ready for breakfast at eight o’clock. The breakfast did not disappoint when it arrived, it was a well-cooked “Full English”.
We were on the road by nine-thirty, which was a little later than we had hoped. I say, “we were on the road”, there was some heated discussion by those with Garmins as to exactly which road we should be on. Henry said one way and Sam and Ollie said another. Sam and Ollie prevailed until we discovered that Henry had been right after all and so we added an unnecessary mile or two to what would prove an exacting ride. It was the shortest day’s riding in terms of miles but when Nick Mitchell wrote in his guide book that the first two days of what he called “End to End” and we called LEJOG were the hardest, he wasn’t kidding, and day two was considerably harder than day one. As we rode off I wondered how much yesterday had taken out of my legs and whether or not I would achieve the goal of riding up every hill without getting off my bike and walking.
From the pub, once we were on the right road, we headed for Fowey and the Bodinnick ferry which would take us across the River Fowey. I didn’t have to wait long to answer the question about the state of my legs and their ability to repeat yesterday’s performance. Were they up to the challenge? Unfortunately, not! The first part of the climb out of Bodinnick got the better of me and so did several other steep sections of climbs on the rest of the day’s riding. Various heated expletives accompanied each time I dismounted and started to push my bike wearily up the hill in question. Anger may have served me well when it came to dealing with others’ doubts about my intellectual competence earlier in my life, but it was impotent with regard to this challenge; in fact it was downright unhelpful and I had to have a few stern words with myself and suggest that being kind to myself rather than fuming might be a more positive position to adopt, after all there was a long way to go. Disappointing all the same.
Perhaps it was musing about how to deal with painful legs and the disappointment of having to resort to walking, or perhaps it was the fact that I was swearing quietly to myself, caused a rather caustic and bitter poem to suddenly came into my mind. I can’t be certain, but you know how it is, sometimes something pops into consciousness and if you are anything like me you have to run, or in my case that day, ride with it, and see where it takes you. Please excuse the language, here is the poem:
They f*ck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were f*cked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man, hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin, “This Be the Verse” from Collected Poems. Sour Collected Poems (Farrar Straus and Giroux, 2001)
I once heard Alan Bennett quote from this poem on a TV program. He went on to briefly describe his parents, of whom he was quite obviously fond. He stated that he had no complaints with regard to them and that really “f*cked him up”. I think know what Bennett meant. Similarly, on the surface I couldn’t complain about my parents. They clearly loved me and tried, on their limited means, to provide for my wants, but, underneath all that, something darker brooded and that I think is what Larkin is driving at in his rather bitter words. My parents were both very anxious people and I grew up in an anxious environment. They also lacked confidence, so little wonder then that all my life I have been an anxious individual who lacked confidence and looked at the world through suspicious eyes. That bit of misery certainly bounced down the generations and landed squarely in my waiting lap. I pondered that Jesus has some strong words to say about those closest to us and the negative effect that they can have, but that’ll have to wait until, hopefully, I’ve conquered this next hill.
Ezekiel's Wheels 