Lately, I've been a little grumbly about bicycling. It feels like the last thing my body wants to do, and interestingly enough, at times it even seems difficult. While dragging myself up a hill recently an elderly gentleman felt the need to shout, "you're almost there. You can do it!"
I'm actually more excited about jogging than biking right now, which is absurd. I've been rolling my eyes at my silly self, but I'm also a little proud too. Though I've been grumbly, I haven't quit. No siree. When the weather's right (20 degrees and up, no rain), out comes the bike, and I make every effort to give the ride my full attention and respect.
We all get burned out on our favorite things. Eventually the passion comes back and lights our world on fire again with its magic.
Tonight, while riding my bike home from work, a small boy bolted from his yard and took out after me, running alongside me on the sidewalk shouting, "bike, mom, bike bike bike."
I slowed to a crawl, not only to give the mom a chance to catch up with him, but I also wanted to make the moment last.
As soon as I turned the corner I squealed and fist pumped the air. That little future track star sure made my day and had my heart shouting bike bike bike. Tomorrow I ride with nothing but enthusiasm.
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