On a normal Thursday, I'd wake up before the crack of dawn (until the time change on Sunday) and go for a ride. Lately, I've been riding up the canyon--part of which is on a very nice path. This path is nice because a) cars don't drive on it, b) silky smooth pavement, and c) at this time of day, there are no people on it either. Because it has been so dark lately, it has been really quite an experience. There are trees over-shadowing the path. Combine that with the small tunnel of light from my handlebar-mounted Cabeza-Logic and I really feel like I'm flying along through a tunnel with leaves fluttering all around. It is quite fun.
Today, however, I got up and painted. This is reminiscent of the last few days of life-outside-of-work, where I've been spending a good portion of my time painting. Painting isn't really that bad--unless compared against any other activity in the world!
Okay, perhaps it isn't even as bad as all that, but to contrast it against my normal activity of cycling, it sucks.
It is on days like this that I realize that cycling really is a stabilizer in my life. My stresses and projects vary from day-to-day and week-to-week, but no matter what is happening with the rest of my life, cycling is there to wipe the day clean. When I start out the day without a ride, I feel like I still have yesterday's worries like so much soap scum built up on me. Only the power of cycling (*now with extra whitening!*) can clean me off and prepare me for my day.
Which reminds me, yesterday the Fat Cyclist wimped out and drove to work instead of riding. He felt like a schmuck, and asked readers to insult him accordingly. As I've thought about an appropriate insult, I realized that nothing I could say would have a more profound impact on him than the act of actually skipping a ride. He'll remember the day when he was all out-of-sorts and needed the cleansing power of cycling. He'll be unlikely to make that mistake again.