My Son-shine
When my alarm went off this morning at 5 am, I snuggled into my pillow, reluctant to get up. I could hear the wind blowing the rain against the bedroom window. The forecast had called for a blustery, cold, and wet day, and that's exactly what Mother Nature was serving up, making it not the kind of day for riding a bike to work. Today would be the first day in two weeks for driving.
I was a bit bummed over not being able to ride, and when I saw some die-hards with their heads down, pedaling with everything they had into the 25 mph westerly winds, I saluted. After the first of the day's meetings, a colleague asked how far my commute is, and when I answered 3 miles from my house to the office, he seemed genuinely impressed. I had to laugh, though, as the 3 miles seems really, really short. I guess from the perspective of someone who doesn't cycle, 3 miles does seem a good distance.
My son wasn't nearly as bummed as I about not being able to ride this morning. We've taken to riding together, splitting off at the mile and a half marker, he pedaling on to school while I pedal on to work. We then ride home together in the afternoons. I've been enjoying watching him become a stronger cyclist. Even just doing the six miles a day has made a difference in his endurance. The first two weeks he was huffing and puffing after a mile or so. Now he zooms past me, stops and looks around, waving to me to speed up. I can only go so fast on Old Faithful, though, and I like being able to go only so fast. I get to enjoy everything I'm passing. We have some great talks as we ride, and we have fun, too, like Monday, when we played polo with the hedge apples along the trail. I kicked one a long ways. My silly son about crashed when he kicked one right against his front tire, making it jerk to the left. The best of our rides, though, came yesterday on our way home, when my son looked at me and said, "I really like riding to school and home." Yeah, me too.
I was a bit bummed over not being able to ride, and when I saw some die-hards with their heads down, pedaling with everything they had into the 25 mph westerly winds, I saluted. After the first of the day's meetings, a colleague asked how far my commute is, and when I answered 3 miles from my house to the office, he seemed genuinely impressed. I had to laugh, though, as the 3 miles seems really, really short. I guess from the perspective of someone who doesn't cycle, 3 miles does seem a good distance.
My son wasn't nearly as bummed as I about not being able to ride this morning. We've taken to riding together, splitting off at the mile and a half marker, he pedaling on to school while I pedal on to work. We then ride home together in the afternoons. I've been enjoying watching him become a stronger cyclist. Even just doing the six miles a day has made a difference in his endurance. The first two weeks he was huffing and puffing after a mile or so. Now he zooms past me, stops and looks around, waving to me to speed up. I can only go so fast on Old Faithful, though, and I like being able to go only so fast. I get to enjoy everything I'm passing. We have some great talks as we ride, and we have fun, too, like Monday, when we played polo with the hedge apples along the trail. I kicked one a long ways. My silly son about crashed when he kicked one right against his front tire, making it jerk to the left. The best of our rides, though, came yesterday on our way home, when my son looked at me and said, "I really like riding to school and home." Yeah, me too.
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