Sunday Morning
I have never been comfortable with Sunday morning. I never thought I was doing it right. Every Sunday I felt like an outsider, having nowhere to go, nothing to do. I felt like I was missing something by not having standing plans for every Sunday like most other people.
I was never one for going to Church, and sleeping in and wasting the day away is not something I have ever been good at. Sunday became that day each week where I didn’t know what to do with myself. I would wander the house, trying the TV, a book, cooking, or even going back to bed.
For a period of time, I found something that let me feel like I fit in by not fitting in; bicycling. I never rode with a club; I was always on my own, even when I was with a partner. When I was younger I would ride up to one hundred miles a day. I rode to and from work daily. I loved it. It was a way of life, pedaling my ass all over New Mexico.
My ex-wife put an end to all that. She whined, bitched, and made my life uncomfortable until I simply gave up and stopped riding.
I have tried a couple of times since the divorce to start again, but that is hard work. Part of me wants to ride like I used to, and I am not in any kind of shape to do that. It is like starting all over again, and I have to be careful to not to go too far.
On this trip to South Texas, I have been riding again and loving it. The environment is wonderful this time of year and the terrain is flat, a great place to get the legs into it and the body ready.
Bicycling gives one a certain sense of intimacy with the environment, partly because you are not wholly a part of vehicle traffic or a pedestrian. You seem to be in a world of your own, and even most cops don’t know what rules apply to you. (I once got pulled over for crossing 5 lanes of traffic in a construction zone without stopping or even slowing down. I got a verbal warning.)
In a car you are separated by the outdoors by glass, steel and speed. Riding a bicycle forces you to become aware of environment. The wind is your friend or your enemy, but you are never indifferent to it.
Going up every hill on a bicycle becomes a challenge, the top becomes an achievement, and the downhill side becomes a celebration. The end of every ride is a time of personal achievement.
So now I have something to do on Sunday morning while everyone else is on his or her way to church or sleeping in or complaining about his or her hangover. I hope I can keep it up.
I was never one for going to Church, and sleeping in and wasting the day away is not something I have ever been good at. Sunday became that day each week where I didn’t know what to do with myself. I would wander the house, trying the TV, a book, cooking, or even going back to bed.
For a period of time, I found something that let me feel like I fit in by not fitting in; bicycling. I never rode with a club; I was always on my own, even when I was with a partner. When I was younger I would ride up to one hundred miles a day. I rode to and from work daily. I loved it. It was a way of life, pedaling my ass all over New Mexico.
My ex-wife put an end to all that. She whined, bitched, and made my life uncomfortable until I simply gave up and stopped riding.
I have tried a couple of times since the divorce to start again, but that is hard work. Part of me wants to ride like I used to, and I am not in any kind of shape to do that. It is like starting all over again, and I have to be careful to not to go too far.
On this trip to South Texas, I have been riding again and loving it. The environment is wonderful this time of year and the terrain is flat, a great place to get the legs into it and the body ready.
Bicycling gives one a certain sense of intimacy with the environment, partly because you are not wholly a part of vehicle traffic or a pedestrian. You seem to be in a world of your own, and even most cops don’t know what rules apply to you. (I once got pulled over for crossing 5 lanes of traffic in a construction zone without stopping or even slowing down. I got a verbal warning.)
In a car you are separated by the outdoors by glass, steel and speed. Riding a bicycle forces you to become aware of environment. The wind is your friend or your enemy, but you are never indifferent to it.
Going up every hill on a bicycle becomes a challenge, the top becomes an achievement, and the downhill side becomes a celebration. The end of every ride is a time of personal achievement.
So now I have something to do on Sunday morning while everyone else is on his or her way to church or sleeping in or complaining about his or her hangover. I hope I can keep it up.
posted by MizfiTroll at 5:49 AM
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