Bike Descriptive Writing

My bare feet chafe against the rough plastic of my bike pedals. I pedal as fast as I can, but it's still not fast enough. A colossal headwind slows me down, making me work twice as hard to go half as fast. I need to get to the beach before dark, and I can already see the sun setting through the careening trees.

To my relief, the sharp smell of salt and decomposing seaweed soon fills my nostrils. Despite everything, I manage to smile at the thought of all the euphoric memories I associate with the rancid smell of this intrinsic beach.

When the wheels of my bike connect with the brusque sand of the beach, I jump off, not bothering to lean my bike up against a tree. I just sit there on the sand, the sun burning into my eyes, unable to move.
I hit the water hard and sink to the bottom. I flail around, my lungs desperate for air, but I don't even know which direction to swim to get it. My feet find the bottom and I thrust myself upwards, breaking the surface and gulp the air.

It's so dark that I can't see the jetty, even though it must be bare metres away from me. I can't see which direction the waves are coming from. As I look around wildly, yet another wave breaks on top of me. I'm pushed even deeper under this time.

It's hard to describe, the feeling of breathlessness and hysteria that comes with being trapped underwater. No light. No sound. No air. My feet are pulled over my head in a somersault motion that I can't control, and my face scrapes across the sand on the sea floor. This is what would have happened to him. I was curious to see what it felt like, to experience exactly what he experienced...well, this is exactly what it would have felt like.

I wonder if he felt as defeated as I feel now. If he had given up and not bothered to even try to find the surface, or whether he desperately sought it. In all truthfulness, I can't be bothered. I have accepted my fate. At least I'll be able to see him