This pic was taken as we rolled out of my neighborhood. Everybody’s tank was full. It was all smiles, shits, and giggles. Sixty one miles later we climbed back up this same, half mile hill toward home. The legs were spent, lungs toast, heart was pounding, and all I could think about was resting, refueling, and recovering. I was empty. Three and a half hours of effort took all my energy. It was chosen suffering. It was the camaraderie of suffering. It was so good.

We hit new roads, wandered onto a couple gravel roads by accident, and managed to find the first chip and seal road of the year. We struggled together and mostly smiled as we did. Littlest called me as he drove home to rerun the ride and see what I thought. Mick reminded me that we don’t know how many more of these we have in us, you know. I looked at him, smiled, and said rather ccd – Not today.

Today we did what we could. We rode. We suffered together. We pushed ourselves and didn’t act our age. We are 65, 64, 62, 59, 59, 58, and PJ is like 45, I think. We all think we’re much younger. Good. It matters what you think, friend. You see a man does as he thinks. What hard thing do you want to do today? Don’t overthink and get lost in your head. Think about how good it will feel when you’ve done it. Visualize it, you know. Then, just do it. FM, baby. Done so. Btw, I’m full already.

Live hard. Love harder…

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