Sometimes cycling is just about getting away by yourself for a while.

Sometimes it’s about climbing hill after hill, mashing the pedals, mouth wide open, heart beating in your throat, trying to outrun your own shadow.

Sometimes it’s about seeing the sun rise over the trees – not another soul in sight, a private show that so many people never see.

Sometimes it’s about pushing yourself hard, sometimes even harder, cresting a hill and collapsing onto the saddle barely able to turn the pedals on the descent.

Sometimes it’s about leaving the house in the slightly chilly morning air and rolling out onto empty roads because everyone else is still sleeping.

Sometimes it’s about hearing the sound of nothing for a while.

Sometimes, most times, it’s about not wanting to stop when you get home.

Wanting to just keep riding and riding and riding until the wheels fall off or the sun goes down or your body gives up.

Sometimes, like today, it’s about all of those things.

30 or so hilly Lake country miles @ 5:15am all by myself.  No real traffic, no companions, no computer, no phone – just me and the bike.  Even on days like today, it can be hard to find that tranquility.  The first 15 miles or so I struggled to be in the moment; thinking of what I needed to do when I got to work, or when I would mow the lawn, or any number of things.  Finally I was able to just enjoy the moment – me and the bike and the road and a few occasional deer to watch out for.

Mornings like today make everything else so much better.