Conjuring Freddy Mercury's sentiments about bicycle riding, I finally asked my parents bring down ye ole bicycle to my apartment even though I don't really have any place to store it (currently it's half-blocking my entrance and just begging to have Bebop run into it and knock it over on himself ever so helplessly). Why the sudden urge? Because I missed it. I really, really miss those days back in college when I rode my bike everywhere.
I knew the transition back into being a bike-rider wouldn't be easy after taking a nearly four year hiatus. At least this time I would wear a helmet. So last week, the first night my bike was back in my possession, I rode it up to Memorial Park and witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen in a long time. I'll take that reward after riding up and down the hills of Dundee. I wasn't surprised to learn how out of shape I was, but a magical thing happened right when I thought about quitting and walking my bike up a collosally huge hill on my way home. I was listening to my Danzig/Misfits Spotify playlist when "Mother" came on and it gave me the exact amount of energy and anger to focus on kicking that hill's ass even though I thought my heart was legitimately going to pop out of my chest.
Sometimes, life suprises you exactly what you need to conquer what's in front of you.
So here's to many more rides in my future. I've already tested out the ride from my apartment to O'Leaver's and back (great getting down there and hell getting back, can we flip that please streets of Omaha?). I've riden at night and the last thing to test is riding after a couple of drinks - or at least figuring out at what point in the night I have to stop in order to make it home in one piece. Priorities people, I tell ya.