Finally, I was able to get back on my bike. My body is used to 60 or so miles a week and I turn into a large, grouchy, purple baloon after a few weeks of enforced inactivity. But Saturday I went out and it was a struggle. Typically the first day back is just that. I did not enjoy it. Went back out Sunday and whole different thing. I felt like I could eat the world. My body was very happy about the whole being back on the bike thing. Now for the morning rides to commence. It will be 50 degrees tomorrow morning which is long sleeve and jacket but not gloves or long tights. It is a love hate thing. From rolling out of bed at 6:30 to the the second turn up the road it sucks but then I'm out of traffic and I can look up at the moon and Venus or whoever is still out so late (bar crawling on a weekday no doubt!) and I'm in my own world. From Venus to sunrise on the same ride is one of those things I treasure and can not share. For three years in Jacksonville I worked from 6AM watching the sun rise over the St Johns River from our 13th floor view and occasionally catching the early morning space shots from Cape Kennedy. Like my bike rides it was quiet and there was (is) no one there but me.
The times I have most treasured my life have been from before sunrise to after. That is my time of day. I own it. How lucky.
My new employee will work out. He's 18. He was not yet 4 when the towers went down. I'm exhausted even thinking about what he does not know, what he has to learn.
And I think a bit saddened by what he will never know and can't imagine what his treasured memories will be. What will be his generational Haight Ashbury, his Woodstock, his Kent State, his VietNam war?
Well, it is Monday and raining so I'm supposed to be a bit maudlin. Just keeping up with the tenor of the day, holding up my end of the deal.