| Echoes of Ukraine Middlesex County, ON June 2025 This photo originally shared on Instagram |
Out of the corner of my eye, the distant tree (or is it two?) at the crest of the hill catches my attention, so I stop the bike for a closer look. I silently debate the merits of interrupting what had been up until now a perfect ride. I’m sure somewhere there’s physiological research that suggests unplanned pauses by the side of the road aren’t good for a cyclist’s metrics. But I long ago decided that rides need not be exclusively about numbers, anyway, so here I am.
For a few brief moments in a picture-perfect corner of the countryside that sort of reminds me of the opening credits to the Teletubbies, silly photos with the smartphone are taken, granola is eaten, and somewhere deep in my brain some new core memories are being made.
Soon enough I’ve had my fill of granola and photos. The wheat continues to sway as I pack up the bike and get back on my way, the pedals slowly coming up to speed, the sound of the wind once again filling my ears. The Garmin computer silently confirms what I had suspected: this spontaneous roadside photo/granolafest probably means my numbers today will sag a little bit.
Worth it, I tell myself, as I mash the pedals and scan the horizon in search of my next memory. Cycling isn’t a metric. Neither is life.
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