Okay, first thing’s first.
Whomever I came into contact with who told me or gave me the insane idea that starting bike-riding at the age of (ahem), my age, is okay–I want to find that person and tell him / her “shame on you” for telling me that lie!
Okay, okay, sure I’m being a tad melodramatic. But there should definitely be an understanding, a line drawn, if you will–between beginning an exercise regimen to improve one’s health and the sheer madness of hopping on a bicycle to prove to yourself that you can still do it.
Today I think I teetered on that very delicate line between those two concepts. At the time of the alleged bike-riding incident, I was in a place where I felt good inside. You know, that feeling of peace when you know God has your back and is taking care of your every need and you needn’t worry so much. Ah yes, I was right there in that moment when I decided to hop on a bicycle and live in that moment. Nothing wrong with embracing the thought; just not on a bicycle.
Ordinarily, given the fact that I [sometimes] tend to be a bit spontaneous, this random act wouldn’t surprise me.
However, as I sit behind a computer now, nearly motionless from the pain I never knew could exist or was humanly possible, in the appendages below my waist (I think they are called my legs), wincing at the thought of how I will feel in the morning, I am forced to rethink the whole “I feel good, so I’m going to hop on a bike and ride a few miles with no recent experience” kind of thing.
Perhaps, just perhaps, my teenaged youngsters might have been onto something when they told me to leave it to the younger generation…
I’m still mulling that over in my mind. I’ll be more sure of my opinions on that in the – ow! – morning.