We were due for something to happen.  We were lucky it was something that was just inconvenient and not something that caused a fall or injury.  We were sailing along and all of a sudden we heard a pop.  It sounded like that pop you hear when your tire hits a twig or acorn and spits it back out on the path. But no, this was bigger and immediately Dave struggled to control his front wheel.  

We stop. For a moment we are stumped.  Why is his wheel all of a sudden rubbing against the side of a brake? What happened? And then we see it. A broken spoke.  How did that happen?  We find out later that the water that was in his wheel after the downpour during Ride 24 caused the spoke to eventually snap. Dave also learned that this is a design flaw in his bike - this water being able to get into the wheel when riding in rain.  Good to know, I suppose, but knowledge that came a little too late.  

So, nothing to do but for me to ride back home and get the truck. Dave walked his bike up to the nearest crossroad, had three people stop to see if he needed help, one of them being a friend who happened to be out riding that night too.  Our daughter’s dog, Ruby, was staying with us so when I got home, she hopped in, rode shotgun and enjoyed the adventure. 

We debated whether or not we should count this ride.  It certainly wasn’t 20 miles.  After a day or so, I decided we are counting it.  We are getting behind again.  We had the best of intentions. Stuff happens.  Ride 33. 

Today was gloomy with a misty rain or light drizzle off and on.  I wasn’t babysitting, no tours, no appointments, no obligations.  I wasn’t planning on cleaning the house, but I ended up spending most of the day cleaning the house.  By late afternoon I am finally tackling the long delayed job of getting my project room back in order.  It feels good to be accomplishing this yet at the same time that I simply have no idea what to do with much of the objects I am laying my hands on. The stuff of life has always been overwhelming to me.   

Dave asks if I want to ride.  I am surprised because I have been watching the trees blow outside my window.  “It’s pretty windy,” I reply.  “I know,” he says.  Hmmm….I dismiss his past comments of how wind is like a horizontal hill. “Ok,” I say. “Let’s go.”

As is often the case, our conversation as we ride turns to our parents.  This time it's his mom. We are noticing a decline that none of us wants to address. What should we or shouldn’t we be doing is weighing heavily on our minds.  She has not made this easy.  Much of her communication with us is trying to prove that everything is fine which means that it clearly is not. Our relationship with her is not one of collaboration and harmony as she approaches her sunset years.  Everything is a struggle. We stop talking about it. It is too depressing.

The sky begins to clear. By the time we hit the park the big puffy clouds are pushing away from one another making room for the blue sky to peek out and frame their shades of white and gray.  The wildflowers are in bloom as we make our way through the meadow. I never tire of this part of the bike path.  

On the way home, another generation makes their way into our conversation.  Our son’s’ baby is due in less than two weeks.  They are being very private about their name choices. We contemplate what her name will be.  I am picturing something strong and no nonsense like Paige or Brooke, Chelsea or Claire.  Dave won’t guess, but agrees that Chelsea is pretty solid and he also likes Allison.  We both decide that this conversation about this little baby we have yet to know is way more fun than talking about not knowing what the heck to do about an 87 year old who is quickly becoming incapable of making safe and sound decisions. “Once an adult, twice a child”, someone once told me.  I hate the thought, but lately I am understanding it more and more.

I am always particularly proud when we do back to backs like last night’s ride and this morning’s.  46.7 miles total. Sometimes we surprise me. 

I wasn’t sure the loop was going to happen.  We set off doing it and then I could tell that Dave was tiring. “We can cut through if you want.” I said right before a turn that would take us to a 14 mile ride and then again to a turn that would take us to an 18 mile stint.  I thought it was going to be 18 but we kept going and missed our opportunity to cut it short.  I’m so glad we did. We ended up having one of our best times.  We sailed through the 5 miles of road that connects the two trails and even had enough energy to do some sprints just a couple of miles from home.  Given the opportunity, we can surprise ourselves. 

We are 35 rides into our goal of 60 4 60. We went into this wanting to lose weight. We haven’t. But we both feel stronger. We thought we would tie adventure and travel into our rides, and for the first 10 we did because it was too cold to ride at home. But then the challenge of fitting rides into a busy summer has kept us on our local trails. We thought June and July would be months when we would rack up the miles, but heat, wind, rain and even smoke stopped us from going as much as we thought we would. I thought I would use this as an opportunity to resurrect my blog, and even though I have written about each ride, I have kept the writing to myself.  

For many cyclists this is a humble goal, but to us, this is a big deal. We are not athletes. We are not even weekend warriors. There are realities that mean that this is a stretch for us. Yet, in these first 35 rides we have ridden 728 miles. That is to Boston, MA or Charleston, SC.  35 down, 25 to go.

I slept in.  This is unusual for me.  But I was up late the night before and ended up falling back asleep after initially waking at 6:45.  I stumbled downstairs an hour later.  “Let’s go.” Dave says.  

I am tired with a capital T, but I know he is right. We have to go. Today is supposed to be a hot one. 

And it is.  It starts out cloudy which is nice, but that humidity!  Thank goodness that we don’t have full-on  sun.  

We settle in.  We wonder how many rides we can fit in before baby. 2 more? 4 more?  At 6 days, her due date is now under a week away.  I still marvel at how this can be.  Most likely we will have another person to call our own before the week is out.  There is a surrealness to this compared to what we are doing now. Peddling, peddling, peddling feels so commonplace, but a granddaughter? That seems unlikely, yet it is not.

I should really try to write as soon as I am done riding.  I ride and think about things to write about and then I sit down at the computer, sometimes a day later, and the words don’t come.

But then I realize that on Ride 36 we were speculating about how many more rides we could get in before Baby would be born. And the answer was none. Little did we know that she would be born the next day. So here we are, 4 days later, the grandparents of three children instead of two.

Little Nora Jane is simply beautiful. It is so fun to look into the face of a little baby girl again.  It’s surreal to think that it’s been 27 years since that’s happened in our family!  

She makes me want to ride more, to walk more, to do more yoga, to lift more weights.  I want to be there for her as fully as I possibly can.  Little #3 is re-prioritizing my life.  Sometimes we grow by wanting to be our best selves for those around us, and that’s what I was thinking as I rode through the meadow on a beautiful random Wednesday morning.