I’ve spent 30 minutes on each of the last two nights on my bike in the family room, riding to nowhere. My goal is to make it to Provincetown, at the tip of Cape Cod, by August 4 this year, and since I haven’t moved forward an inch on my bike, I’ve still got a ways to go.
Despite my lack of movement, I’m encouraged by the progress I’ve made on the more difficult journey: fundraising. You, my six loyal readers, have generously gotten me off to a good start already, taking advantage of my offers to early contributors to
Thinking about your support motivates me during my family room rides more than whatever I find on Netflix–this week I’ve been making my way through MI:5 episodes, so after I get off the bike, I’m sweating more from the tension of the latest fictional terrorist plot than the actual effort of riding. That’s not to say my mind doesn’t wander, though. A cousin once asked about my long rides through Vermont if I talked to myself. I said no, since I don’t often vocalize my thoughts, to which he said that when he was out all day and night on the tractor, he always talked to himself.
After he heard that I like hills and helpfully sent me on a route that included a hill that’s got to be a 14% grade, I was talking to him while I was riding too.
Fortunately, our family room is flat, but I did have a few thoughts as I rode, watching TV and our kitteh amuse herself chasing, capturing and releasing pipe cleaners, markers and motes of dust:
You can see why I need your support to think about during these tedious training rides to nowhere. If I don’t have that to think about, I’ll end up as crazy as kitteh.