All of my bikes have been packed away and shipped to Seattle. All but the singlespeed that is. We’ve gotten in some good time together this week. There is something about that bike that brings me lots of joy. On the flats, I can’t go too fast. I get the chance to just coast, to feel the breeze on my face and notice the soft smell of the wildflowers beside the trail. On the climbs, I push myself much harder than I normally would. The searing in my legs, the euphoric release of life, the realization that I am stronger than I realized all flood in. Pain itself is not so bad; it’s the anticipation of pain that holds you back.
The singlespeed and I are on an adventure. It’s not about a race; it’s about exploration. Even though it’s starting to get dark, we push on a little farther. We test our limits. Even though we are close to home, we are a million miles away from here.
The singlespeed and I are on a mid-week vacation.