January 15th was an unseasonably warm day. Whatever it was that I had to do that day could wait. I canceled my work obligations, packed a bag and drove south.
I pedaled as hard as I could into the headwind until my legs stopped working. I felt angry. I felt overwhelmed. I wanted to leave it all there...a turn onto a quiet road...no cars in sight...farms and fields...me and my bike...and I screamed at the top of my lungs...and I sang out loud...and the tears began to flow.
How did I get to this place?
These two wheels got me through the most difficult time in my life. I’ve made friends, kept fit, had fun and acquired some bad ass tan lines. I even enjoyed the taste of success.
But something in me has changed...and this no longer feels right...it hasn’t felt right for a while, but I felt guilty for leaving the only thing that kept me going when I was at my lowest...is that any way to treat a good friend?
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