There is a large hill near my home, as such I hit it every morning on the way to work, sometimes before my legs have had a chance to “get used to the day.” This especially happens when I have gone to bed really late and got up really early. Today I was feeling good, and it showed, I was cruising up that hill (rather steep mind you). A car passed as I was climbing smiling nicely out the passenger side as it went.
The car was just being nice, giving me a little smile as if to say, “hey look a guy riding up the hill, how nice.” I however took it as an invitation for flight lessons. When I got to the top of the hill, the car was at least a 2 blocks (Boston streets are in no way organized in any sort of grid so these measurements are estimates) down the street. I said to myself “can you catch that car?” then said back to myself “you bet your ass you can, go!”
I chunked it into high gear and stood up on it, sending a pleasant burning through my thighs and I was off like a shot. The air was sweet with speed as if flowed past my lips, I was gaining on the car, and I knew it. Looking up I saw that the chase was all but over as the car was slowing down for a red light. The fun was over…wait no it wasn’t I don’t have to stop for red lights, I am an adventurer.
I toasted that red (no one was coming from both ways I looked!), and pow! I was off. I love when I feel like this. Everything just sort of came together and I was flying like greased mercury. The entire 6 mile ride to work felt amazing. I was go go go the whole way.
Rides like this are why it is so great to ride a bike. The feeling of your legs moving, and the air over your face. The jumping excitement of the speed, the world rushing at you. All under your own power. Living to ride, might sound cliche, but it sure feels good to be alive while riding, you can at least take that to the bank.