I'd forgotten what this time of year is like.
our weather has been so very user-friendly lately that I've taken the ability to go ride every day for granted.
but this evening as I look at the weather forecast for the next week, I am thrown right back into the reality that today is just one single, solitary day away from october. and I should be thanking my lucky stars that I'm able to get out and ride at all, let alone ride in a sleeveless jersey and shorts.
alas, the sleeveless jersey has possibly had its last outing.
as I ponder the weather forecast and its implications for riding, other thoughts drift in and around. they have to do with work, household chores, my kids, and dreams and desires that have (gasp) nothing to do with cycling.
it's already begun, as I contemplate my day tomorrow: chances are it will be too wet to ride. I'm not ready to spend a morning in the gym, as that feels like a complete capitulation and I cannot go there yet. thus if it's too wet to ride and I'm too stubborn to go to the gym . . . why, my whole day opens up. a significant chunk of time has been freed which I can now use to, well, do one of a million different things. or three or four of the things on my to-do list, at a minimum.
however, my list of fall-rides-still-to-be-done hasn't been shrinking by much, and I am feeling the seasonal crunch. how can I possibly fit in all the rides I still want to do if it starts raining all the time? although those first snows of the season tend to cling to ground more than they do to asphalt, they still manage to snug the walls surrounding my riding windows.
the most wonderful thing about all of this, though, is that I am not in charge. I just get to respond to what happens outside. the fate of my day tomorrow lies in hands bigger, stronger, more capable, and infinitely wiser than mine; therefore, I can sleep without concern for the morrow because it will be what it will be, and I will gracefully accept the outcome.
as long as I get at least a dozen or so more beautiful riding days before october draws to a close.