I think if you really knew me, all the things that go on with me at work, on my commute, at home, you might think I do too much. I do. I think a lot of us do. I think many of us feel like life is a crazy hamster wheel, and if I even think about stepping off, something will fall through the cracks.
Always, something falls through the cracks. I have to send my self appointments to sew buttons, pay for the girls’ school meal trackers, make an on-line Scrabble move with my mother on the East Coast. I email myself recipes and ingredient lists or tap into the cooking apps to be sure I have the right ingredients for the night’s dinner. I even make an appointment to make my on-line credit card payments.
Eagerly awaiting wine o’clock last night, I was tweeting from theBus about my observations. There was a very old man who boarded at Aina Haina. In the reflection of theBus door glass, I saw him kiss a woman good bye. It was so sweet. He sat in the first available seat, put on a respirator, and kept his eyes front. I tweeted about how romantic it seemed, and someone tweeted back that he’s probably getting on theBus to go back to his wife. Oh how cynical. I wasn’t there at all! I was swept in the moment of seniors romantically linked.
I walked in the door with my girls and my eyes fell on my bicycle, waiting on the trainer, iPod in the bento box, bandana draped across the handle bars, triathlon shoes hanging from the pedals. It wasn’t wine o’clock after all. It was exercise o’clock. After I instructed the girls to chill until after I was done, I got on, plugged in, and rode for 45 minutes. It was nice. Great music, a great bike, a healing foot, I escaped for a little bit, worked up a sweat, imagined being in the wild.
I don’t know when I’ll have the confidence to ride in the wild again. I think about my favorite route, from home to Kahala Triangle Park, back to Hawaii Kai, up Heartbreak Hill, out to Makapu’u scenic point, back into Kalama Valley and home again. It’s a nice 33 miles. I thoroughly enjoy it, with or without companions. When I get home, I connect my Garmin to my computer and watch as my ride reveals itself: heart rate, speed, mileage, etc. I love seeing that stuff!
I’ve fallen twice, riding home with blood streaking down my legs, thinking how it was such a drag, but knowing that getting back on is very important, and goodness be a big girl and take care of the road rash at home. Right now, twisting out of my pedal gives me pause, so, I’m going to wait until I’m 100-percent certain that I can do alright on my own.
I’m going to have to get John to refresh me on the changing-a-tire exercise. I’ve had to do that once, and, I think I better revisit that skill before I launch again. Taking care of our equipment is another way of taking care of ourselves.
Eventually it was wine o’clock. No worries.
