Why i'll never be a professional cyclist.........

I can't get enough of Twitter. Not because I enjoy tweeting - my life is so boring that my tweets bring little entertainment to the world.
I enjoy it because i'm nosey. I want to know what everyone else is doing. It's the same with Facebook. I want to know that the girl I went to school with 20 years ago, who used to be hot when I was 10 but now resembles Simon Cowell in a wig is having a tuna sandwich for lunch. These things interest me, not because i'm sad enough to really care about the filling of a sandwich but because it reassures me that my life is good and that i'm doing ok.
OK magazine doesn't interest me but I can sit and read the wattage that Alex Dowsett is putting out on a training ride and actually sit and digest the information as if it's this year's bestseller. Why? Because it fuels my imagination. I want to make myself believe that had I made different choices in life, these people I read about could have been me. I'd like to think that if David Brailsford saw me riding my 2nd hand BMX around the village green, i'd be up there in the mountains giving Andy Schleck "the look" before launching a devastating attack.
The realisation? I have never had the potential to become a professional cyclist because I just don't know how to suffer. To look at what the pros go through is truly humbling. 6 hours in the rain, in January, just to ensure that the base fitness is there for a race in July.
For me, if I look out the window and the clouds look a bit grey, I declare a rest day. Should I be sad about that? I don't think so, it's not as if i'm telling the world that i'm eating a tuna sandwich......