I had a groove going almost immediately. Riding wasn't hard, but it wasn't easy either. I just was going at the pace I was supposed to. I rode things on the cross bike that seemed difficult the last time I rode them on my mountain bike. Not effortless, but more like effort-appropriate. My body knew when more output was required and supplied the right amount of energy. Not too much, and not too little. Just right.
I felt like I was going just the right speed. I didn't feel at any point that I needed to drop the hammer any more than I was, but I didn't ever feel the need to slow down. The obstacles in front of me arrived under my wheels just when I expected them to.
I had rhythm. I didn't bring my MP3 player, but I had a steady beat in my head. If I could capture and contain what I was feeling last night, I could package it up and sell it for a million dollars a box.

1 comment:
Great description of what I like to call "My Happy Place" Warren. Though my happy place is more like Happy Gilmore's.
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