Happy 4th of July, Friends!
I love Independence Day. Not only because I love the work-in-progress called America (as messy and broken as it may seem at the moment), but also because the holiday reminds me to own and love my God-given independent streak.
To wit: I’ve never been comfortable living in one political party bucket or the other, preferring instead to align myself with particular issues and policies I feel are important. Never found it necessary to “Keep Up With The Joneses.” Resisting fashion, cultural or these insidious tech trends (i.e., whatever the “In Things” are at any given moment). Indie music? Big thumbs up. Creating my own indie American-dream lifestyle? Yep. Indie thinking about life in general? Bigger thumbs up. And so on.
This morning during a training ride, it occurred to me that my bike (“Lil’ Buddy”) could be a vehicle that might free this pilgrim from the tyrannical inertia of aging—if I stick with the program, that is.
Day by day. Mile by mile. Leg-burning stroke by leg-burning stroke.
But let the aches and pains begin—the kind that lets a guy know that he is, in fact, busy living instead of dying.
Yes, the training for next year’s Natchez Trace Parkway ride is in full swing, which at this point involves a paltry 9-mile lap around Shiloh National Military Park. But sometime before next spring, I’ll have to be able to pedal 32 miles a day for 14 days in a row while possibly sleeping outdoors every night in a hammock (which, last time I checked, does not have a built-in compartment to hold my CPAP machine 🤷♂️).
Geez. When I think of the hale and hearty adventure cyclists riding clear across America right now, my goal seems pretty lame by comparison.
Yet, when I think of my pot-bellied, porch-sitting neighbor who doom scrolls all day in a cloud of cigarette smoke, I start to feel a tad better about myself.
I hope you, too, are feeling good about yourself during this holiday weekend! If not, park yourself in the shade of that big ol’ tree you love so much, yank an icy IPA out of your cooler, pop a juicy Delta-8 gummy, then dive face-first into the potato salad (but no smoking or doom scrolling…and DO NOT under any circumstances get on a bike for at least 24 hours).
Thank you, thank you, thank you for your continued readership and support!
Peace & Love,
Mark