I went for a bike ride today; first time in about a year it seems. Last summer was deathly hot and I had impending surgery at the time (apparently my calcium levels could spike in the heat and potentially kill me--such was the sorry state of one overactive parathyroid); this summer, I don't plan on needing surgery and so, I'm going to ride my damn bike much, much more, like the good ole days. Except that I'll be a few years older than before.
Despite the lethargy of my overweight body, the hour bike ride I just took made me appreciate all that is not oil powered in this world. I don't want to turn this into some kind of tirade against cars, because I know that riding in one is natural, and I know that they've allowed a lot of good. Still, we use them too frequently for short trips; they stink and are loud; that's enough. There's really no need to bring along two tons of metal with you for a milk run. But I've been all too guilty of this, of course. Because it is so damn convenient and given no short term incentive otherwise, well, there I am in traffic, as pissed off and pent up as the next guy.
And this almost 9 months of sobriety as taught be something. I'm really really pent up. Like, you know, mentally constipated. Holy shit. I never really considered comparing bike riding to sex before. Okay, okay, I won't do it overtly. And I'll revert from this point to my lazy self. But, as far as a release, there's nothing quite like a bike ride. That's what I'll say. It doesn't have to morph into anything else than that. Some fresh air and adrenaline and warmish breeze, and a little bit of solitude in the great big world.
No comments:
Post a Comment