The chicken enchiladas that I just finished were the perfect end to a good day. They were well earned, too, in my opinion. I pulled the trailer into work this morning at 6:40. I thought about how pleasant the weather was. I thought about my scarf flopping around in the wind. My legs felt strong and the trailer felt light. Work was a breeze. I drank coffee and built bicycles. I rode the bikes that I built around the Old Mill in the pleasant weather. I thought about my new Niterider headlights that are coming in the mail shortly.
It's easy to lose yourself in your thoughts when you are truing wheels and disc-brake rotors. My thoughts were disrupted at three, when I realized it was time to pull the grocery-getter over to Mother's and help out at the CSA. I handed out produce shares to 90-ish people who are interested in supporting local farmers. I rode home with my own share in tow. I observed that, by the end of the day, my legs do not feel as strong. The air, however, felt pleasant. My thoughts roamed around some more. I thought about the low-income neighborhood that I was riding through. I thought about what kind of people might live in those buildings, the duplexes and four-plexes backed up against the railroad tracks. All those people are living in a reality that is probably somehow similar to my own, but at the same time is so far away.
I blinked and I was home. My flashing lights and Jesus had been predictably faithful in escorting me safely home. I thought about how, no matter how tired I am, riding bikes is always worth it. Especially when there are enchiladas as a reward.
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