I am not going to do this again. The longer I put off writing, the less I want to do it. Ride logs should be written the same day or the next at the latest, and they definitely should not be stored up. This is an exercise to motivate not procrastinate. That leads to the opposite effect: not wanting to go for a ride because I haven’t written about the last yet. So, now, I catch up. Only two rides as it turns out but they are from a week ago. Hopefully, writing about them will free me to hop on my bike this weekend.
Except for water sports, I don’t think of exercise as a way of cooling off. Last Friday was one of the few really hot summer days we get around here. Josh came home and took Ike to go drop some crab pots and I was alone in the house sweating after a day of cleaning and rearranging furniture. I sat down to write for a few minutes and found myself pondering a bike ride as a nice way to cool down. I realized I could write more later, but if I didn’t go for ride right away, I would convince myself that it was too late or something. It was almost 8pm and there was about two hours left of light. The temperature outside was much more pleasant than inside even with all the windows open and the ceiling fan whirring. I grabbed my phone and made way to the garage and off I went to the shadiest street I know. Wow. So nice to have cool air hitting my face and flowing under my T-shirt. The little exertion I needed to expend to keep moving was minimal compared to the relief I felt as coasted down the slight inclines of the road. It was exactly what I needed.
I hate when I don’t write when the inspiration hits. Usually it is due to lack of opportunity. On Saturday, my mom came over to watch Ike (Josh was working) and I was able to ride to the 9:00 a.m. meeting at the hall. That was just the beginning a very active, fun-filled day. Already, what I was going to write about is slipping away as it the inspiration becomes more of a memory than a call to action.
The topic of the For Today reading was facing one’s fears. I was struck with the synchronicity of my bicycle journey and the journey of recovery. Biking forces me to confront many of my fears and ride through them: fear of looking good; fear of someone stealing my stuff; fear of falling, being hit by car, of getting hurt. Every time, I get on the saddle, I take action to move through my fear.
The meeting hall is in the basement of a building and is accessible in the back at the bottom of a kinda steep hill paved with gravel. In these two months that I have been riding, I have walked my bike down the hill. Too afraid of my brakes skidding and causing me to fall. When I was 10 years-old and first relearned how to ride a bike (if I ever really did know how when I was 5, maybe I always had training wheels), I ate it pretty hard on gravel, skinning my right elbow and knee. I still have faint scars. On Saturday, before reading this passage, I finally felt confidant to ride down it. I trusted myself and my bike to make it down unscathed.
Rode to a meeting this morning; a wonderful way to begin the weekend.
The sun was shining and gave the impression that it was going to be a beautiful day. Clouds are hovering now, but I still have hope. Topic today was obsession and freeing the mind. I am at both ends with my bike. I am a bit obsessed over accessories, fashion, and when and where to ride but, when I ride I feel so free and in the moment.