• Shortly before I realised I was ready to up my metaphysical gearing and ascend into the realm inhabited by cycling gods, I fought in this war on the roads. I engaged in the prescribed methods of combat, and dutifully wrote letters home to my belle from the gutters. But after my epiphany, my riding style transmogrified into an expression of utmost purity and boundless love on two wheels. As I passed, children spontaneously laughed with wonder, and cabbies wept warm tears of bittersweet regret at the years they'd wasted in a black cocoon of hatred. The war was over.

    So good.

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