Mothers don't let your babies grow up to be bicycle riders.

The early morning sun comes roaring through the small opening in the shades and floods the bedroom with beacon light brightness. It is 6 something a.m. I cannot sleep any longer, I lay there and try. I know more sleep for me is well needed, would help my cycling, so thinks my self cycled center thoughts. I sneak out of bed, this is more sun then I have seen in weeks, I have the day, my bike leans against the dining room table ready to please.


The first thing I check as I get to my feet, is "What is sore" "Is anything injured" With my first step I notice the bones in my left foot feel a little sore, but that's OK I know that will work itself out, and I understand why it is so. After thousands and thousands of pedal revolutions yesterday on 58 year old feet, what can I expect? Shoulders are the same, both sore, but tolerable, I had half dozen hard crashes this winter usually landing on one of my shoulders, I have been waiting for this to leave, but like winter in Iowa, it is hanging around longer then appreciated.


Hands and forearms are stiff, but that will loosen up. I have not rode drop bars all winter, and now in the last few weeks I have put a few hundreds of miles riding drop bars which require a complete different muscle/tendon combination, and my body is still adjusting.


I sit at the dining room desk, and check out Weather.com. Next to me is the dining room table with my bike of choice for today leaning against it and a few removed bicycle parts, and the tools required to have done so still sitting there from last night's repairs. It is going to be 39 degrees and sunny today. I think I can do a river route ride on my cycle cross this morning and perhaps ride my abandoned road bike in the afternoon, on ice free roads if I stick to the beaten paths. This bike has not been rode in months and months. Last year in late summer, and fall, I was driven to complete 100 dirt metric Cs and rode exclusively my Cycle Cross. I didn't 'waste' days riding that wouldn't end up in a dirt century. My road bike sat, deserted. The time jam got crazy with all that as I was very driven to complete.



My second cup of coffee is half finished; my caffeinated brain cells only heighten this urge to roam the roads on two wheels. I will wait for Birgit to wake first, before I leave, to say good bye. We have every other Sunday off together; she tolerates all this with a smile and encouragement. My mom would always tell me, "Your lucky David" and now my sister Dawn let's me know this also. They are right.

I hear footsteps upstairs. Time to find my 'stuff' get dressed, pick out what to wear, get ready, get riding.

I would not change this, if I could. I know this is all finite. Someday the body will not get up and go where the mind tells it to go. I will deal with that when the times comes. But for now,  the road and my thoughts are mine, to roam in spirit, soul, and body, on top of a bicycle.

Lata,
DAve.