[flatbutt]

So, I went out for a bicycle ride Saturday. Hot, humid and windy so perfect conditions.

I took my usual break for a PBJ bagel and water at the local shop when another boomer took the opportunity to "suggest" that maybe riding in such conditions isn't the smartest choice.

Rather than spitting in his eye I chose to try and explain "why" I do like I do.

Fast forward to what I did after getting home. I sat with my post ride beverage and gathered my thoughts on the question. This is what I came up with.

Please forgive the obvious self-indulgence.

There is an enormous difference between living in the world rather than just on it. It is the difference between reading about someone else’s life and actually living your own life. Our lives are largely lived on the inside of ourselves and sadly, mostly taking some very important things for granted.

The gift of mobility is one the things we take for granted. I know I did. Why not? It’s not something we think about. We learn to do it by the time we’re one year old and really there is no reason to think about it afterwards. Right? That’s natural. Until you’re blessed with an incident that makes you think about it. What if you couldn’t walk? Just imagine all of the things you couldn’t do. And what if your arms are impaired as well? What then?

I’ve had the rare privilege and, perhaps, what might be considered an unfair advantage over many people. I’ve had the experience of losing my mobility for a significant time and then was gifted by regaining it. So, I know what it feels like to be bed ridden. I still can’t run or ski, skate, surf or even walk steadily. But by some miracle I can peddle a bicycle. I celebrate the gift I was given by riding my bicycle everywhere I can.


On my bicycle my senses are energized with the reality of being alive. The feel of my leg muscles as they push over the top of my pedal stroke is a palpable reminder that I am moving by my own power, by the force of my own will. My legs are like pistons and my desire is the spark firing them. The push of the handlebars against my hands as the bike leaps forward in response to that pedal stroke makes me feel powerful like when I was a younger me.

The air itself is a huge part of my experience. I can almost lean upon it, and it feels as much a part of me as my own skin. The differences in temperature engage me intimately as I move through shadow into light and back again. Fragrances of trees, flowers and grass fill my head and swirl around as though I were lying in a meadow instead of floating through the scenery. And for all of the speed of their passage, their impact on my mind is all the more acute.

This is what the gift of mobility brings to my life. I would wish everyone to know such moments. And this is one of the powerful motivators that compels me to keep riding and doing other things that most people take for granted. This is how ego is involved. Whenever someone tells me that my continuing struggle against my handicap has inspired them in some way, I am fueled even more so to keep on truckin.’