... some people dance. Or sing at the top of their lungs.
Tonight I needed to ride. Alone. At my own pace, without worrying about holding anyone back or trying to make an impression. I needed to feel good on the bike again, especially since all of my crashes have left me paranoid, overly tentative and basically just nervous as hell about anything cycling-related.
So I rode 22 miles after work today, all by myself. (Just for the record: I did call a friend so someone knew where I was in case of emergency. And I brought my phone with me on the ride.) I averaged a 14.4 mph pace -- not speedy, but comfortable. And I navigated traffic on my own and practiced my hand signals. And I focused on form (heels down, shoulders relaxed) and keeping a steady cadence.
And I didn't crash or get hit by a car or die.
This is huge.
Added bonus: At one point, a coyote stepped into the road in front of me. It stopped for a moment, and we stared at each other before it trotted off.
(I also saw a vulture guarding a fawn carcass. This was not as fun.)
Maybe Bibi and I can reconcile after all.