I’m using some accumulated PTO from work this week. That means more bike rides!
In a previous life, a quarter of a century ago, before having kids, I used to ride a lot. I rode for transportation. And I took long bike rides with my husband. I liked cycling back then. But I’m experiencing a new level of joy with it now. Maybe because I’ve experienced a couple of decades of not being able to just go, of always planning even the smallest moves in my day around other people and their needs.
Summer has dropped itself on us here suddenly, as it does in Missouri. So I went out early (ish) this morning before it got too hot. I saw a fair number of bikers, runners and walkers on the trail, at least while I was still in city limits. I went out into the country a couple off miles before turning around.
I’ll tell you this about myself on a bicycle — I’m not the fastest rider out there. I get passed by a lot of other riders. And I don’t care! That’s part of the joy of cycling alone. I don’t have to worry about keeping up with anyone. I set my own pace, stopping when I want and resuming when I want. I’m not competing with anyone.
I recently read a book by Jill Grunenwald, called “Running With a Police Escort: Tales from the Back of the Pack.” It’s a great encouragement for those of us who are winning no races, but are still doing the thing.
Anyway, while guys in jerseys were passing me this morning, I met a fellow traveler with whom I could sympathize.
Nomadic Noesis 