High hopes
I guess I never became the blogger I had hoped for.
I should’ve known that I’d never stand a shot during the summer of actually sitting down in front of the keyboard and writing anything of substance. Far too many diversions, distractions and destinations filled my calendar to make blogging much of a reality. This, despite some decidedly blog-worthy events in recent months. So, that’s how it goes.
When I wasn’t working, I was either cycling or trying to date. Emphasis on trying. In this age of Tinder and Bumble, eHarmony and Match, dating should be easier, but it really isn’t. Sure, I suppose it’s easier to get laid (much easier…) but to actually attempt to make a connection with somebody, that feels harder. At least to me. Individual mileage may vary.
Cycling, on the other hand was a breeze. Vineyard, Nantucket, seemingly everywhere around Eastern Massachusetts, on-road, off-road, I logged some serious miles. You know what, it was transcendent. While the rest of my life was rather chaotic (for me) and disjointed, when I was out there on the bike, most of the time with no pre-planned destination, nothing else mattered. Escape is good. Escape is vital. Escape was mine.
Over the course of my travels, I met some fun people – which should come as no surprise. From Alex and Alexa (seriously!) out in Stow with their synched playlists, to Team Trippin’ in Menemsha searching in vain for post-ride cocktails adjacent to that oh-so-perfect bike ferry. Granted, I met all those people when I was off the bike, but had I not biked to these locations in the first place, the connections never would’ve happened.
The introspection is good when I’m out there doing my thing. I need that time alone, in my head, to sort through my life, but fortunately, I’m also able to completely turn off those thoughts and can just experience the bumps of the road, the scenery around me and the thrill of the road/trail.
