No apparent reason, all over, until I ride, warm up, and move a while, then it's OK.
You. Many versions. A little me on a stingray. A cordial group, starting off at 5:30am, riding to coffee, chatting along the way. Cross-country crew, from one coast to the other. Friday night crew, from one cordial meeting place to another. Mountain biking buddy, hammering up hills on a hot day, flying down them setting sparks off rocks with our pedals. Missed meetup museum girl. Easy mornings. Beach days. Library nights. Book store days. A passion for stamp collecting. A different job. Time to read a great book in one sitting. Clarity. Smoothness. Balance. Ease. Peace.
Truth. Strength and confidence and time to ride far and fast. A better world for my children. Better communications and better understanding between everybody. What is was like before cell phones. Accidental poetry that makes my heart sing and eyes water. Intense insight. Powerful thoughts handed to me gently by a stranger. Angels. Unexpected happy people. A chance to help someone. A chance to make a meaningful difference in someone's life. Great places to ride a bicycle with others doing the same.
Simplicity. Solitude. Quiet. Wordless understanding. Small beautiful things. Slow rides with no destination. Bike n+1 853 or Ox Platinum from the swap meet, not expecting to find it. More time with my kids before they fly the nest. Concert moments. Dune moments. A bleak windswept snowscape. A wilderness beach. A movie that takes my breath away like the one in Cambridge did a long time ago. Night rides. Mud. The ability to overcome bias. Sharp, focused vision. Dreams that run several nights, and all fit together. Dreaming, period. Late mornings. Accomplishing shared struggles. A long run on a morning where I can see my breath. Heroes. Laughter.
You, just one version.