Choosing recovery, continuous, active and arduous, has been, without question, the best thing that I’ve ever done for myself. Without recovery, none of the good things I experience in life would have been possible. No wife, no kids, no life, no house, cars, camper… bikes (!), you get the idea. The second best choice would be marrying my wife, followed by having kids. Choosing to start running was a really good idea, but mostly because it led to cycling…
So, not surprisingly high on the list is buying my first bike.
Any given day, I’m reminded, in one way or another, how lucky I am to be me. Whether it’s reading a post that reminds me that I was saved from a wretched life or simply that I’m not dead (I was given till I turned 30 if I kept drinking, I turn 50 this year). I get to think about how glad I am to be married to (and happy with) my wife. I look at my kids and think about how we chose to bring them into the world, and how they’re turning out to be great people. The blessings are numerous, and big.
Then there’s cycling. There isn’t a day that goes by I’m not fondly remembering a road trip with friends, a trip with my wife and friends, or just a ride with someone. I think about all of the scenery, all of the hills climbed, the speed, the carbon fiber, the joy of turning my feet around to get from one place to another, in search of the next place to have lunch or a snack. I think about the laughs shared on a ride, before, during and after meals, and I can’t help but marvel at how good it is to be me.
Friends, I could have all the money in the world and it wouldn’t be worth giving up what I’ve got today.
And that’s as good as it gets.
Ride hard, my friends.