Not so long ago Friday nights used to be expensive, costing me plenty of money. And brains cells. Nowadays, for the bargain basement price of just $20 I can get a darn good workout by hitting the boards of a velodrome, instead of the overpriced beers of a pub. I still get to socialise with my friends in a noisy and buzzing environment for a few hours, not to mention enjoy the chemically-induced euphoria only a river of endorphins can deliver. But I actually feel better the next morning for it. Much better.
This is no doubt the dad in me coming out too; but equally as encouraging is the number of teens you see out racing each Friday night, testing themselves against the older riders instead of falling victim to the perils of binge drinking, street racing and tagging train stations. I love a beer as much as the next bloke, and frequently do. But this Friday night track caper, well, it has a lot going for it in my book. Cheers!