a capricious wind

a cycling mentor of mine says she loves the wind.
I am constantly trying to incorporate---bring into my body---that attitude.  I think about it, I tell myself I love the wind, I say I am grateful for it . . .  and it still, almost always, gets my goat.*

some days are excellent for riding east, some for riding south.  occasionally, we'll get a day that's perfect for riding north.  and sometimes it's a pure pleasure to ride west.

today, however, was a perfect day for riding, and I loved the wind.
it was behind me, then beside me.  it was in my face and then on my other side.
and then it was behind me again.
then in my face.
and it was all good.

and I'm going to work very hard to remember my enjoyment of the wind today, to remember that wind isn't evil, to remember that it's always a gift of one kind or another.  I know that what made it better today was its fickleness, the fact that it wasn't continuously against me for any significant length of time.  the longest stretch of in-my-face was perhaps 4 miles, which is tolerable.

so, outside of having a tailwind my entire ride, my next choice is a capricious wind.  here, there, leaping from side to side, playing catch as catch can with leaves and with soaring hawks.
and with cyclists.


*if you want to have a little fun, try to find the origin of this idiom.  

go ahead, make my day

6:15 am, heading down from the little mountain summit, rounding the first curve, a friend was waiting for me.  haven't seen coyotes in the canyon for years . . .
great way to begin my day!

reasons to ride

it's nice out.
it's not raining.
it's only raining a little bit.
it's not snowing.
it's not coming down very hard.

it's calm.
it's only slightly windy.
it's only windy in bursts.
they aren't gale force winds yet.

the road is dry.
the road is drying.
the road is just wet in places.
the road only has snow in the gutters.
the bike lane is almost clear.

I feel great.
I feel pretty good.
I don't feel well, but exercise will help.
this cough is nothing, and I can breathe through my mouth.
I'm not on my deathbed yet.

my knees feel great.
my knees only bother me a little.
exercise will help my knees.
I can still make the pedals go around, slowly.

it's so nice I don't need toe covers.
I've got toe covers.
I've got booties.
these neoprene, fur-lined booties keep my feet almost dry.

it's monday.
it's tuesday.
it's wednesday.
it's thursday.
it's friday.
it's saturday.
it's sunday.

because I want to.
because I should.
because it keeps my heart healthy.
because I'll feel great when I'm done.

because the guy with only one leg is out there riding, too.

because I'm darn grateful I can ride a bike.

and the ultimate, final, always appropriate, real reason:

so I can eat more cake.

not riding

last weekend I went out of town.
I took my bike.
I packed a bag with appropriate biking wear, helmet, shoes, treats for the ride, sunglasses, gloves.
I'd been there before and knew plenty good routes, and had scoped out a new one, too.  I had my garmin, and was eager to keep adding miles to my training, to my workouts, to my life experiences.

my bike never left its spot in the back of my car.

saturday, well, I was busy with some writing work, and it was on the cold side, and there was always sunday.

sunday, well, it looked cold, and the wind was strong, and . . .

when I came home I unpacked.  I took my bike out of the back of the car and put the front wheel back on. I hung up the jacket, and put the gloves and hat in the drawer with the helmet and glasses.  the shoes went back on their shelf, and the treats back into their tin above the fridge.

and life goes on.