I ride to empty my head and relax. This poster captures how I feel riding my bike generally.

Lately however I have Cheryl on my mind I’m unable to assure myself that she is okay while I am away.

It distracts me from the Zen zone that I get in. Runners call it – runner’s high. In my case it’s bikers butt.

Getting to it can take several miles. But if get there it is all smiles inside your head.

There is a zone when you ride and a rhythm in your brain as you strain to listen to a podcast.

Or avoid the mom’s with small ones who refuse to cooperate that day but are doing their best to rest little feet that are not as fleet as mom’s are.

I ride the same circle and listen to whatever on my Bluetooth earbuds that did not come from Apple.

A book takes too long but a song or two or three is just right and Pandora tells me to buy their service with out ads for five bucks a month but with fifteen seconds of ads it is better than commercial TV and it is free.

If I want words about nothing or about something a Podcast is just right and a delight. It can be insightful if it is about something or frightful if it is about something else.

And eventually it is noise and I am in Zen zone and cone of self and the world is separate and indistinct.

It is a joy to ride with the wind at your back. It is like flying but slower.

This is my bike. I am not trying to get anywhere. It is just there to ride and hide for a bit from responsibility and duty when it calls.

Glamorous it is not but it is what I got in addition to bike tights and the rest of the kit to look fit.

Ten miles is typical and twenty miles is magical. And then the podcast is over. It is sad but I am glad that for a bit I felt very fit in the zone.