Wind In My Face

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?


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