Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Heading home

On my way to work I was wearing some winter gear and pushing the

pace because I didn’t want to be late. On the way home I was wearing

lighter gear and had all the time in the world and a lovely day to ride in.

I didn’t have to push the pace at all, so, inexplicably, I did. I don’t know

what happened. I was thinking about how nice the sun felt and how

tired and lazy I was feeling, and then I was thinking about how good my

legs felt and how easily the pedals were turning and then I started

thinking that, though I had made it to work in good time, maybe I could

make it home even faster…

Well, you can figure out the rest from there. What could have been a

lazy ride turned into a “how hard can you go” ride. Hey, either type of

ride is fun as long as you’re in the mood for it. Of course, my head and

my legs were in different moods but, as so often happens when that is

the case on the bike, my legs won.

The cars which had been so nice I the morning were rather less nice in

the afternoon. Now, I have nothing against pickups, but apparently

they have something against me,since three of the four vehicles that

passed me unsafely were pickups.

So, let’s see…morning cold, afternoon warm. Morning cars good,

afternoon cars bad. Am I forgetting anything? I was sure there was

one more difference…oh…right. Morning no dogs.

This large white dog of indeterminate parentage was behind his house

when he saw me. I noticed how far away he was – he didn’t notice me

until I got to his yard – and discounted him. This turned out to be an

error, because that dog must have had some hidden greyhound ancestry

or possibly some hidden jet engine ancestry. Wow. He caught me and

kept pace with me. My brain tried to coax a little more out of my legs,

but my legs were quite sure there was nothing else left. They did

manage to wring out a couple of miles per hour, but the dog merely

laughed sarcastically. He was having no trouble keeping up with me.

Fortunately for me, he never came into the street and,when we reached

the cross street he peeled off and headed back home,happy with a job

well done. I tried to convince my heart to slow down and to remain

inside my chest. I was successful.

Those days when your brain and your body disagree are always strange,

but my body definitely won this round. I kept the pace high all the way

home. I was two minutes faster than in the morning. That was nice. I

would have hated it if I had ridden hard all the way home and not been

any faster than in the morning.

Isn't commuting fun?

It is for me.

See you on the road.

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