Cycling is Bliss

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.