Yesterday's post was rather depressing, if necessary. So today I'll be a bit more cheerful. Or, at least, I'll follow Walt Whitman and celebrate myself.
Last Thursday, on the Fourth, I said I'd "sneak in" a ride before going to a barbecue with friends. Well, that barbecue started a bit later than planned and, of course, there was no rule about being there when it started.
When does a barbecue "start" anyway? When the first burger or chicken wing is placed on the grill? Or when the first one is eaten? Even if you can fix a "start" time, when is someone "late" for a barbecue? When the food runs out?
Anyway, the ride I "snuck" in took me to Connecticut and back: 137 kilometers, or about 85 miles.
A ride and a barbecue: Really, what more could I want on my birthday--which just happens to be US Independence Day!
The other day, I celebrated another "birthday". On Sunday, the 7th, I took another ride to Connecticut. I took a longer route, though, from Rye to the Nutmeg State, over a series of roads that climbed ridges and looped around farms north of Greenwich. Then I descended one of those ridges into the town of Greenwich. In all, I rode 169 kilometers, or 105 miles.
When I set out on my ride, though, I didn't realize I was celebrating another "birthday": It's something that occurred to me while I was climbing one of the ridges. On that day, exactly ten years ago (7 July 2009), I had my gender reassignment surgery. It kept me off my bike for a few months and I started this blog not long after I started riding again.
Oh, and while I was riding/celebrating, the US Women's Soccer/Football team won the World Cup. If I were just a little more self-centered, I'd say they did it for me, or there was some sort of cosmic convergence. But I have just enough humility to believe in coincidences that I can't explain.
Then again, when you can celebrate, do you really need to explain?
Last Thursday, on the Fourth, I said I'd "sneak in" a ride before going to a barbecue with friends. Well, that barbecue started a bit later than planned and, of course, there was no rule about being there when it started.
When does a barbecue "start" anyway? When the first burger or chicken wing is placed on the grill? Or when the first one is eaten? Even if you can fix a "start" time, when is someone "late" for a barbecue? When the food runs out?
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| Cyclists Resting at the Top of Pendle Hill by Gosha Gibek |
Anyway, the ride I "snuck" in took me to Connecticut and back: 137 kilometers, or about 85 miles.
A ride and a barbecue: Really, what more could I want on my birthday--which just happens to be US Independence Day!
The other day, I celebrated another "birthday". On Sunday, the 7th, I took another ride to Connecticut. I took a longer route, though, from Rye to the Nutmeg State, over a series of roads that climbed ridges and looped around farms north of Greenwich. Then I descended one of those ridges into the town of Greenwich. In all, I rode 169 kilometers, or 105 miles.
When I set out on my ride, though, I didn't realize I was celebrating another "birthday": It's something that occurred to me while I was climbing one of the ridges. On that day, exactly ten years ago (7 July 2009), I had my gender reassignment surgery. It kept me off my bike for a few months and I started this blog not long after I started riding again.
Oh, and while I was riding/celebrating, the US Women's Soccer/Football team won the World Cup. If I were just a little more self-centered, I'd say they did it for me, or there was some sort of cosmic convergence. But I have just enough humility to believe in coincidences that I can't explain.
Then again, when you can celebrate, do you really need to explain?
I sing the bicycle electric
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ReplyDeleteRoger—I love it. I am sure Walt would approve.
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