Lately I've been struggling with how involved I really feel like being with cycling. I don't mean this in the "how much do I really want to ride" way, I mean it in the "how much do I want to devote to training, possibly racing and 'taking it seriously'" sort of way. I'm not sure if there's a good answer.
What I've been realizing is that I love riding simply because it's riding. I love being on a bike, moving forward through the landscape with nothing between me and the elements. I went out today, hoping to beat the rain that was painting the radar all sorts of greens and oranges. I made it about 5 miles and then the bottom started to drop out. It poured, then drizzled, then poured some more. I eventually decided not to even try and cut the ride short—I was already completely drenched, and it was plenty warm. In those moments though, when by all accounts I should have been miserable, I was as happy as could be. My legs felt good. My lungs felt good. I could bolt up hills that normally leave me winded.
The thing is, it doesn't matter if it's raining, or if it's the sweltering, sticky, endless heat that summer brings. It doesn't matter if it's cold, and I can't feel my toes. Riding is still riding, and despite it all, it's still fun. As the spring grows into summer, I'm going to focus on that, and not worry quite so much about reporting all the (not so interesting) nuances of each ride. The point is to get out there and love being out, whether you're riding a $7,000 NASA-pet-project or a $100 fixie, it's still the same feeling.
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