17 GLORIOUS miles. That's all. Just 17. I remember when 12 miles were killer. Then anything under 30 miles for a ride was an easy day. But on Wednesday after three weeks off bike me and my husband rode 17 glorious miles. Totally and completely happy to be on the bike again. First time to ride since new expensive Michelin tires, Bar Phat, and wider handlebars plus a better cyclometer. Three weeks of: Moving a cranky, mean elderly person from assisted living to another, first week of second semester nursing school, a week of oncology and a lady aspirating but was saved (not with my meager nursing school ability, I'll tell ya that), a week of a patient who couldn't speak English and was a survivor of a wreck involving 7 people with 5 fatalities and three of fatalities were her kids and one her boyfriend, one buddy nurse who wouldn't speak to me, and two who were not much better, but best friends in nursing school I'd lay down my life for, a son that keeps me honest, and husband who says YES when I ask WANNA GO RIDE?

Seventeen miles of soul healing, forget the world, race the wind and your ride partner, BICYCLING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Geez, I hate to wax poetic and sound all maudlin, but THIS is it. THIS is why I ride. To forget the horrors I see that I can't help but go back to and try to fix. And to feel like I am 12 again and be immortal and fearless and totally in love and unjaded and uncynical.....okay, okay, I'll stop now!