Therapy
In a way.
On my way home work today, I decided "damn my allergies, I'm going for a bike ride". So when I got home I dusted off the seat of my Mikazuki-5 (bonus points if you get that), check the pressure in it's tires and set off to the river with absolutely no idea where I was going or where I'd end up. Which to me, is the best way to do things.
Once I got across La Rivera and to the levy I ditched the paved/gravel path for the first dirt trail I saw, and from there pushed and ducked my way through vines and branches that hung across the foot wide trail, as various plants collected on the bottoms of my pants and shoes. The feeling of zooming over mounds of dirt and skidding through corners kept a comic like grin on my face...at least until the first swarm of gnats. After that I only opened my mouth to breath, after I had slowed to a reasonable pace.
Down by the shore the view was only ruined by the Howe overpass and random car sounds that drifted across the waters surface. If you listened hard enough you could hear snippets of conversations carried on on the other shore, or the buzzing of other cyclists tires on the paved road on the levy.
This clears my mind, I'm not sure how or why. Don't really care too, ruins the mystery. All I know, is that I should do it more often. The only bad thing is that, my legs don't want to work anymore.
On my way home work today, I decided "damn my allergies, I'm going for a bike ride". So when I got home I dusted off the seat of my Mikazuki-5 (bonus points if you get that), check the pressure in it's tires and set off to the river with absolutely no idea where I was going or where I'd end up. Which to me, is the best way to do things.
Once I got across La Rivera and to the levy I ditched the paved/gravel path for the first dirt trail I saw, and from there pushed and ducked my way through vines and branches that hung across the foot wide trail, as various plants collected on the bottoms of my pants and shoes. The feeling of zooming over mounds of dirt and skidding through corners kept a comic like grin on my face...at least until the first swarm of gnats. After that I only opened my mouth to breath, after I had slowed to a reasonable pace.
Down by the shore the view was only ruined by the Howe overpass and random car sounds that drifted across the waters surface. If you listened hard enough you could hear snippets of conversations carried on on the other shore, or the buzzing of other cyclists tires on the paved road on the levy.
This clears my mind, I'm not sure how or why. Don't really care too, ruins the mystery. All I know, is that I should do it more often. The only bad thing is that, my legs don't want to work anymore.