One warm summer day feeling the wind was applicable. Now, as I sit in the comfort of my bed strategically positioned above the heater’s vent, contentedly tapping away at the keys of my warm laptop, I have to consider where I’ll be in just under two hours. Currently, it is 11 degrees (F). And I’m going to ride outside. Not just today, but all weekend. For a total of 6 hours.

So, this weekend, I don’t ride to feel the wind in my face. And while I curse my inability to grow facial hair to protect my face from such wind, I ride to prove that I can. Because the collection of reasons NOT to ride is too damn easy to think up. Because hours in the saddle on rollers or a trainer in stifled, indoor winter air is not the same. I’ve done that and felt the (literally) numb sense of accomplishment of an epic roller ride. But, today, I will be empowered, albeit, likely a bit cold by the feel of real road under my tires and the push and resistance of wind and hills.

I think I’m crazy a little bit; I too easily hear my mother’s complete astonishment (this coming from a woman who has trained for marathons in all conditions on Missouri’s rural highways and gravel roads, carrying a water gun filled with ammonia to deter unleashed farm dogs. All this, in the 80’s, well before marathons were cool. But that’s a different story). But her passive dismissal of my sanity for such actions echoes in my head. And pushes me.

We’re in Missouri. We’re not in Chicago or Minnesota or upstate New York. And this ain’t that bad. So, add this post to the quickly growing number of entries that say “suck it up” and go ride your bike where bikes are meant to be (no, not on the sidewalk). For 15 minutes. For 2 hours. Either way, you get a rush that reminds you why you ride.

Why wouldn’t you ride?

It’s cold, yes. But the same sense of freedom is there, too. Go find it. See you out there.

-dd