Gemotions

The racing bike felt alien beneath him. The handlebars, the seat, the whole machine was unfamiliar. He had been a runner, a creature of his own legs, his own strength. Now he had to rely on this mechanical contraption. The team needed him to try cycling.

He wobbled as he started, his muscles protesting. His vision blurred, the other cyclists seeming to glide effortlessly past him. He felt a burning sensation in his lungs, a tightness in his chest. Each turn, each hill felt like an insurmountable obstacle.

He struggled to keep pace, his legs screaming in protest. The wind felt like a physical blow. He gripped the handlebars tighter, his knuckles white, and his gaze focused on the road ahead.