Lessons on a Bike - Training Part 3

This ride is starting to take on a life of its own. It's doing things to me, changing me, in ways I had not anticipated. It's as if I'm paying my spiritual taxes in blood, sweat, and tears. Yes, I do mean 'blood' and 'tears' literally - it's been painful learning lessons like how high of a pavement edge I can ride off sideways, and which bushes are pricklier than they look. However, I haven't had the disposable income to be as generous as I've wanted this year, so I willingly make the sacrifice now.

Despite the pain, it's enjoyable. Not all of it is physically pleasurable, but I like the thought that I will have achieved something of significance by year's end. For too long, I've been stuck on a hamster wheel of simply earning money - it's a basic survival thing, I'll grant you, but I don't want my life to slip away unmarked to an unremarkable end. When I die, I want the officiant at my funeral to have a full life of subject matter to draw from in the ceremony, not a nondescript "she was nice enough."

Just for the record, no, I'm not planning to die soon. The contemplation of my legacy started after the murder of a friend when I was eighteen; that was the first time I realised I had to do something with my life if I wanted a funeral with interesting stories. The quest has been on-going since, but I haven't yet reached the point where I feel I have nothing left to do. Given that "go ice-diving on Neptune" is on my bucket list, I don't anticipate ever feeling that way. But training my physical body and finding its natural rhythm is focussing my mind on the task of amassing a body of meaningful work.

I'm almost tempted to get a cape and wear it during the ride. Much of my reading of late has been Tolkien-centric, Tolkien's characters set out on long adventures wearing capes. They carry provisions - something I'm going to do on the bike - and set out, ill-prepared except for a cape that protects them from wind, rain, and cold. Also, it's after The Year Two Thousand (remember when we all called it that?), and people after The Year Two Thousand were supposed to wear capes. Alas, I fear it would be impractical on a bicycle, but would add to the feeling of being on an adventure. Even if I don't reach my fundraising target, I'd just like to get there and back again, bonus points for having someone else's Postsecret wish (pictured alongside) come true for me too.


With that in mind, I'll leave you now to go back to transcribing a first draft. The transcription needs to be finished by the time I leave, so it can rest while I'm on the road. When I get back, I'll have the second draft to work on, and the first six months of this year will not have been wasted effort.