“All good things must come to an end.” I thought sarcastically as I banished the snow shovel to its summer home in the garage attic.
Spring had arrived. I walked over to my bike still hanging bat-like from the garage rafters in its winter parking space. I reached up to pull it down thinking I might go for a quick ride. Then, rather rudely, I heard my snarky inner voice. “You’re right. All good things must come to an end.”
When I turned fifty, family and friends began urging me to replace my bike with something more comfortable. That’s polite code for ‘age appropriate’. Every year I laughed off their suggestions as I passed them on the trails. But the truth is, last year I didn’t log many miles on this bike. And now, I can’t bring myself to enjoy a simple cruise around the block.
Continue reading “Can You Still Pop a Wheelie? Part 1”