Last year I participated in my second cycling tour. The difference between a tour and a race is that no one takes a tour seriously, at least not the cycling aspect. Races are for the super competitive. A friend of mine who is a cyclist told me about how winners typically finish those 150+ mile races: they… Continue reading Recording for Clean Water
There had been nothing special about her. Nothing that would have caused me to take note of her. Only that she walked toward me along the left side of the path (her left, my right), so I had to move to my left to pass her. I remember she was tall and hadn’t appeared to… Continue reading Commotion at Eastwood MetroPark
It was a few months before Christmas two years ago when I sat in a staff meeting at my church as we discussed seasonal impact opportunities. We usually have a couple projects we encourage our members to contribute financially to, as people in general, not just Christians, typically increase their charitable giving around Christmas. One… Continue reading Tour de H2O
As you might be aware, I’ve enjoyed cycling this past summer, and I’m stretching it into autumn. I’d really like to keep going another month, or maybe until it starts to snow, which might be February, if this winter is anything like last year’s. With the temperatures dropping for breathtaking autumn rides, I just bought… Continue reading Passing Tractors on My Bike
The donut race was hardly a competition. It was a 30-mile race with two stops, where you could catch your breath and refuel on donuts. For each donut eaten, 5 minutes was deducted from the actual time. It was completely light-hearted and very fun. Of the wide variety of about 1,000 participants, none took it seriously. There were cyclists who looked like they could vie for the Tour de France. And there were others who seemed to be in it just for the donuts. There were groups of friends who cycle only casually and some who probably ride the regional circuit. There were many tandems, including parent-child ones that inspired me to want to ride with my kids. There were seniors well into their 60s, men and women who appeared to be defying the effects of age. Most of them passed me up.
It’s said that Mozart at an early age—not sure when but later than five, when he started composing—had to choose on which instrument he would focus his efforts, violin or piano. Perhaps because he was more of a perfectionist than I am, he decided on one instrument, whereas lately I’ve preferred guitar, even the electric over acoustic.