I’d forgotten about the endorphin rush of flat-out biking — not to get somewhere, not to accomplish something, but just to be out on a bike. I’ve never owned a bike this light either, so it’s fiercely fun to ride. My first bike is/was a big tanky Electra Townie; my favorite bike is an Xtracycle, as in: giant cargo bike. This is a mountain bike over a decade old, owned by someone who loved it, with good old parts, that I bought cheap just yesterday.
So I woke up this morning just thinking about cycling.
Had coffee. Came home and checked the weather radar: maybe an hour until the next clear time? Enough to do dishes, start some laundry, before switching to tights, bike jacket, helmet, gloves.
I’m out of shape, though. Going up even little hills and my legs are yelling at me. But I just shift down again until it’s light enough on the pedals for me not to be whimpering. And downhill: flying! I could do this forever. Knowing, of course, that I’m going to have to go back UPhill again. Through the woods, though, that’s amazing.
And now I’m ready to get back into biking as a “thing”, as my thing.