We Happy Few Part II

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I’ve made multiple attempts at this blog post over the last few weeks. I’ve deleted every single post…until now. I had another ah-ha moment, in the midst of a lot of discomfort, and it moved me to write. I think I spend a lot of time writing when things are bad, and I want to embrace the joy that comes with good things.

And things are GOOD.

My bicycle is more than a means of transportation. It’s more than a toy. My bike is more than all the things that bring me joy.

It’s a tool.
It’s a teacher.
It’s a therapist.
It’s a mother.

My bike has a way of pulling me out of the dark, and pushing me towards the light. It shows me how to live. It shows me how to persevere. It makes me feel like everything is gonna be alright. Because, you know, EVERYTHING WILL ACTUALLY BE ALRIGHT.

26 months ago, I couldn’t make it 20 miles without stopping. I couldn’t climb. I could barely keep a 13 mph pace. I got dropped from no drop rides. I never gave up…

and now I’m here. And it’s BEAUTIFUL.


**First 40 mile ride. May 2012**

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