I had only one official resolution for the new year and that was to BIKE EVERY DAY. Didn’t matter if it was up the block or an 80-mile loop: just do it.
Yesterday I didn’t. I didn’t get on my bike and do the obligatory and semantic “Ride Around The Block” that I’ve already done several times in January to fulfill the daily goal, because it’s just silly. Because it doesn’t accomplish anything other than to say yes, I planted my ass in a bike saddle and pedaled.
Big meaningless whup. I do more than enough of the street stuff — and with back-to-back weekend mountainbike rides I’ve already up’d my percentage of offroading by a billion compared to last year’s zero rides.
So I didn’t yesterday.
I planned to. Given our Disneyland visit and the Super Bowl, my idea was to log 6/10ths of a mile yesterday morning, but I got distracted with ongoing attempts to bring wireless connectivity to an old Powerbook and before I knew it it was time to get to Anaheim — where we did two Neverbefores: rode Disney’s Monorail and had lunch at the Blue Bayou.
Then after we got home and my mom arrived and we got comfortable in front of the game with a beer or two and the biggest pyramid of my mom’s nachos ever and chicken fingers and other snacks, it became pretty apparent that there would be no bicycling on this day. The resolution would be broken, the streak would end at 31.
And I’m fine with that, because yesterday it may have been for a lack of trying, but overall it’s not for a lack of doing.
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