long-ago post. We pedalled it again in 2011. This last week, as on those other two occasions, we borrowed bikes from the hotel (more on the hotel later, a separate post). Unlike those other occasions, this past week we took one wrong turn and added fifteen minutes to the uphill climb, albeit we got some respite with a long gentle downhill . . . which, of course, had to be reclimbed to get back on the path.
I noticed a significant difference this time, though. While the cycle up was still very tough, most of it made in the easiest gear (although I went through all 21), I recognized a change in my attitude this time. I remember really grumbling, being seriously cranky, wanting to blame Paul for putting the rocks in the way, for not bringing enough water, for making it too hot, for making it too steep. This time, I knew it was tough, but I was sanguine, if not cheery, about the sweat. It was as if we were in it together, two. . . dare I say? . . . amateur athletes out for a challenging cycle* into some gorgeous scenery.
You might remember that I still hesitate to think of myself as athletic, despite having run 8 half marathons in the last few years. You might even remember that I blame this persistent hesitation on my grade school gym teacher, the tyrant gymnast. But, luckily, this guy below keeps roping me into riding and hiking and running along on his adventures.
Have you been out to play recently? And, à propos of my last post on depression, do you find such outdoor activity a good antidote to sadness or anxiety?
*In the interest of full disclosure, I must say, and you'll notice from my gear anyway, that we're not regular cyclists, except that we pedal our island bikes the kilometre to and from the boat daily, baskets usually loaded with groceries. I'm nervous about bike-riding in the city, although I'd like to get over that and did enjoy cycling in Bordeaux a bit this summer. Naramata's a lovely, lazy little town where we felt very comfortable riding the roads. Except for that damned incline!