meandmybikes

This is a story of a young boy that liked to count.
He'd be taken to a court room and stare at the clock counting how many people or cases were going before him.
1,2... did I count that one, next, fifth, sixth, ... 23... not me yet.

He used to count literally everything. Days, hours, minutes and seconds. Rates, money, people.

It was just in his nature.

He liked to count hills, squares, neighborhoods, bus stops, connections and ways to make trips efficient without the assistance or with the help of the public transport.

he looked up hills, walked his bike multiple times to the summit of huge mountains on the coast of New England, looking for a way down that wouldn't require stopping at every intersection.

He thought of problems that seemed highly unlikelely because often they were part of a much bigger journey.

Take his rides through a city and he had the habit of repeating his moment in different locations.

Back in his college days, he would explore the big city his college was. The city was divided by a big river, that followed its way to the ocean. It was connected by several bridges, that allowed for him to loop around different distances and see different areas of where he was.

From two bridges he extended his loop through over 18 miles.
Each 9 mile way was a way of exercising his body and mind.
He explored the beautiful scenary through different seasons.

From the wet pavement on auburn days, to the cold winds that soon would allow for snow and ice to cover the landscape.

He kept pushing.

Through the weather, through and through, he'd make his mileage, he'd take his time.

Then his loop was changed, he went from the local big city to the international big city.
Having grown accostumed to the local big city distances, and lots of space, covering the other ground wasn't that difficult.


His 9 mile distance to another state then became one way across the other place.
What was that in reality? A 1 hour bike ride comprised of different hills, streets, intersections, lights...

In his small town, 1 hour was a fast car ride to the nearby big city. So it should be some long distance he pursued.

What did that mean to his body?
His back had been sore. He had to stretch it. Push it, stretch his legs on the different bikes seat heights, and pedal distance.

He had started his day with a Lyft ride to a new house, a walk over another big hill, a bike ride publically funded to Harvard University. The subway station though, all those street names were known to him. Well, likely not all, but many of the main ways at least.

He'd let go of his handlebars, listen to his music, think of his guitar and so many other good thoughts.

Get into the subway, ride to his doctor, see about his middle finger.
Drank water like a dog that has left the park.

Get back in the train, hide away from the rain, get back out in the dark.
When the cold could embrace him, he'd feel his fingertips freezing.
His hands occasionally he'd wrap in gloves that would allow him to forget the momentary feeling the environment had, but rather focus on the ride that he'd take, and they were always filled with joy.

Then after 9 miles, he'd enter the cinema and fall asleep at the movie.