Saturday, April 26, 2014

Dear Melody,

As you know, the sun decided to make an appearance early this morning, kicking the early weather predictions in the teeth. I believe you had some hand in this event. How? I don't know, but that is what I believe. You wanted and perhaps needed the morning to unfold as it did as much (if not more) and I.

And unfold it did . . . temperature, sun, all the elements doing its part to present to us the ideal conditions for the inaugural run of the season.

Two cups of coffee, a bowl of cereal later I was ready. And there you were, readied days before in preparation, waiting patiently, confidently.
More confident than I, truth be told. Even though the run was nothing too complicated. Nothing too twisted. Nothing too involved. A small errand, an easy jaunt a bit over two miles, round trip.

Easy. Peasy.

Well, as it turns out not quite so easy and I have no idea what peasy means, if it even is a word, but it was nowhere to be found in the jaunt either. My knees crackled, my breaths shortened, and my back protested, but onward I pedaled, your shiny confidence urging me on.

Still, I must confess, my mind spun with alternatives for the return trip while securing you to the corral after the first leg. But, after I emerged from the post office, the parcel I'd gone to pick up safely packed in the bag, secured to my back, I noticed the wind velocity had lessened, the sun shone brighter, the traffic had eased.

Again, I know all that was your doing. You're a mighty force, my lovely blue machine.

So, thank you for being the strong one; for easing me up that slight incline, for steering me toward the softer, less pot-holed roads, for not mocking my ever so inelegant wheezing, the deafening noise of the crackling knees. Thank you for holding fast to our near snail's pace even as I ever so briefly, entertained of idea of being offended by the jogger in the pink fluorescent top out running us.

We made it back to the homestead, much as we left; you confident and me, achy but happy. You are parked in your usual place--anxious to weave your magic for the next clear day--for our next opportunity to be as one, again and again and again.

I am so grateful to have gotten this inaugural run under our collective belts, so happy it went as well as it did.

And so again, thank you for being there for me and being ready to go on the whims on the wind and the knees.

You are so lovely, my might blue machine.


♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  


  1. I miss riding bikes. My RA knees can't do it anymore, but I used to love to ride bikes. But, even if my knees allowed it, I don't know if I could pull off what you did. So out of shape! GOOD on you!

    1. I didn't manage much consistency last year. I hope this season is better.

  2. It'll get easier, I know you know. I've been back to riding my bike to work over the last week or so. I'm getting all Tour de France ready, yo.

    1. If I can manage any of that consistency previously mention, yes, I know. I'm steering for that. Yay, YOU!

  3. Anonymous12:42 AM

    Ah, I want a bike so badly! Not sure if I'll be able to do it (may need a modified bike if I can). So in the meantime, I'll just enjoy Melody!


  4. So happy for you and Melody! I've gotten back in the saddle, too, and oh the wheezing and crackling and panting! Still, it feels good.

    Pedal on!

  5. Just stopping by. Sounds like your side kick is spurring you on toward that spinning joy.


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