As my legs spin, I consider how much I love cycling. Since my childhood it has been empowering. Even with training wheels, I would ride in circles on my driveway at speeds I could never run. As an adolescent, I would not know where I was going, but it allowed me to go somewhere, even if my choices were limited to left, right, or straight. Now as an adult, it provides me a relief from my stress and anxiety. Cycling has always been good to me.
After the winter, I knew that I needed to make a change. I was 210 pounds, unhappy, and unhealthy. I looked okay in clothes at 6 feet, 2 inches height, but I felt terrible. I was out of breathe after a short run. I wondered if I would be able to keep up with my children in 10 years time if I continued on the same path. How to get onto the new path was abundantly clear: where jogging, cross training and elliptical machines had failed, cycling would succeed.
Cycling was different. I commuted along the trail all summer. While taking in the fresh air, I enjoyed the wildlife and landscape. It was a peaceful and enjoyable commute, and I embraced it as it changed me.
5 months later, it is cold again, but I am 173 pounds, happier, healthier, and still spinning. But as the fan blows to keep me cool, I look around my dreary basement, I wonder:
Can I keep this up ’til spring?