Sometimes a ride is just that. A ride. And nothing more. I have these. As infrequent as they come, they come. I’m out for the first 20-30 minutes wondering where everything is.
My legs are welled up from standing at a workbench. The skies ain’t helping my tan lines. And I have to replace my other cleat. But I keep pedaling because it’s why I’m there.
There are days, very few thankfully, when I wonder. What’s the point? I can turn at the next corner and be home in a heartbeat. Hey man, I’m e-RICHIE. I don’t have to do this.
And on the days when riding seems like the worst thing I can be doing, but I’m in the middle of trying to do it, the road opens up to me. And then I take it. All the way to the end.
Today was this. I started with all the right reasons to ride. And then lost all of them. But even a ride with no plan can give back. And it gave back. And it gave back in spades.
The rides that you start but don’t wanna do are the hardest. But when you see a threshold, and you stare it down, and get to the other side, you’ll know what I mean.
All This By Hand
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