Story of a backhoe and a bike

Yesterday. One of those days. A Monday. One coming after four days of fun, feast, and family.

A morning of rain, not heavy but enough. A wet commute. The psychology of it caught my attention - my own feelings. First, a wish - very emphatic - that the rain stop. Then, once stopped, a new feeling. You can take it; bring it on. Then rain again and misery. But misery in moderation - not a soaker - all garments did dry during the day. No wet shoes riding home.

At work the day was a burden. Myself sleepy. Unmotivated. Growing weary to the bone as afternoon wore on.

But the afternoon commute was something else. Warm with light cloud cover and breeze mostly from behind or to my side. Shorts instead of tights. A shirt without windbreaker.

And an intersting encounter. On a longish climb but not steepish up Sherman Ave I found myself behind a big backhoe tractor going about 18 or 19 MPH. Didn't I speed up to ride in his draft! Tiring but exhilerating. An affirmation. Yes! After four days off the bike, a big bike pleasure.

Heavy rain forecast for today, but not in the morning. I ride in, expect to subway home. Dentist Thursday. No bike then. I think - At least one good ride this week. That's something.