Day’s Verse:
Go after a life of love as if your life depended on it—because it does.
1 Corinthians 14:1

Yesterday I did the 7 Hills of Kirkland metric century — that’s the supposedly 62-mile route, for you non-bike-jargon folks. Anyway, this was my “big” goal for the year, and I completed it easily enough. Not quickly, mind you, but by no means did I ever doubt my ability to finish. Here’s what the route looked like. Probably I was the pregnantest woman on the ride.

I did doubt my desire to finish when the sprinkles started, and then it transitioned to real rain, and I had brought along a nice lightweight windbreaking vest and a bike with no fenders. Naturally, my riding compatriots had also made similar choices, so in addition to regular rain-wetness and the spray from our own bikes, we also subjected one another to a delightful smorgasbord of road filth suspended in water. I kept finding bits of grit in my hair afterward, a common occurrence after a very rainy ride.

So I did the ride, and it went fine. It’s almost all roads I ride constantly, hills within a 5-mile radius of my house that I’ve ascended zillions of times, many within the last few days. Dad kept me company, and along the way we picked up a nice (extremely fast, extremely strong) couple he’s gotten to know this season. They wanted an easy ride, and Katie Pregnancy Pace came out just right for them. We all got quite wet together, and they rode up hills slowly with me, and we avoided collisions with other irresponsible or inexperienced riders, and that was that. Finishing up, I felt like I certainly could have kept riding, possibly for quite a bit longer. It just wasn’t that difficult at the pace I set, which was sort of the point. Seems like half the time riding my commute home is harder.

Here’s what I had on my mind as I rode my “goal ride.”

Come, my friends.
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are —
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

From “Ulysses,” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Now I’m trying to figure out a reasonable, healthy new goal. Something to keep me motivated and moving for the next month or two.

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