Offthegrid
04-10-2007, 05:53 AM
I roll along the dark suburban streets, 32 degrees out, bundled up, nervous and excited. Backpack on, helmet on, winter clothes on, lights on.
For a short time, I bike 100 feet from a train. I keep up for a brief second before I come to my senses and slow down.
I hit a rough patch -- dirt covered in tire marks -- on a road that's closed to traffic but I decided to take anyway. Man, that was fun.
I ease onto a more rural road and watch the sun begin to rise in the distance over a corn field.
I hear birds chirping. I see a red flash as cardinal zips by. Somewhere a dog is barking.
I reach one of the busy roads, and it's no problem. The left turn is a piece of cake. I know I'm going to make it now.
I'm riding uphill. I'm sweating. I'm using my body. I feel my heart beat. My thighs burn. I am alive.
I'll burn about 625 calories before work and another 625 after work. I can eat without a hint of guilt today.
I head onto a bike path. I pass a runner. "Good morning," I say. I wonder if he's training for the race I'm doing at the end of this month. I have to walk up a short, steep hill on the bike path. One day I'll ride up it, I vow to myself. One day. But not today.
I get into the city. I've biked about 11-12 miles. I'm tired. My butt hurts. My hands hurt. I see two kids riding to school on their bikes. I say "hi" and they begin racing each other.
While waiting at a traffic light, I see a woman in a car wolfing down McDonald's. Wow, that was me just 8 months ago. I want to tell her how good this feels being out here in the morning. How cycling and triathlon are transforming me. That the seemingly impossible is possible indeed. That she can do it, that she can fulfill her dreams. But the light turns green, she shoves the last bit of hashbrown in her mouth and she speeds away.
I can see my building now. I have a huge smile on my face. I did it. I did it. I did it.
Now I have 9 hours to recover before riding home.
For a short time, I bike 100 feet from a train. I keep up for a brief second before I come to my senses and slow down.
I hit a rough patch -- dirt covered in tire marks -- on a road that's closed to traffic but I decided to take anyway. Man, that was fun.
I ease onto a more rural road and watch the sun begin to rise in the distance over a corn field.
I hear birds chirping. I see a red flash as cardinal zips by. Somewhere a dog is barking.
I reach one of the busy roads, and it's no problem. The left turn is a piece of cake. I know I'm going to make it now.
I'm riding uphill. I'm sweating. I'm using my body. I feel my heart beat. My thighs burn. I am alive.
I'll burn about 625 calories before work and another 625 after work. I can eat without a hint of guilt today.
I head onto a bike path. I pass a runner. "Good morning," I say. I wonder if he's training for the race I'm doing at the end of this month. I have to walk up a short, steep hill on the bike path. One day I'll ride up it, I vow to myself. One day. But not today.
I get into the city. I've biked about 11-12 miles. I'm tired. My butt hurts. My hands hurt. I see two kids riding to school on their bikes. I say "hi" and they begin racing each other.
While waiting at a traffic light, I see a woman in a car wolfing down McDonald's. Wow, that was me just 8 months ago. I want to tell her how good this feels being out here in the morning. How cycling and triathlon are transforming me. That the seemingly impossible is possible indeed. That she can do it, that she can fulfill her dreams. But the light turns green, she shoves the last bit of hashbrown in her mouth and she speeds away.
I can see my building now. I have a huge smile on my face. I did it. I did it. I did it.
Now I have 9 hours to recover before riding home.