Yesterday was a mess: dead car batteries and paperwork issues and deadlines. Plus, I still felt rotten. When the time came to get myself together for a bike ride, I very nearly gave in to the rotten. I didn't think I could dredge up the energy to get myself to the parking lot, let alone ride with the skinny chicks.
My nephew's new girlfriend is a living doll. Her mother's sisters and a bunch of friends gather at a park near my house every Wednesday night for a bike ride and tailgate gathering. I've been invited several times but haven't gone, partly because I've been intimidated by all these gorgeous, skinny, cool women. But one of the many ways biking has rescued me is by widening my world, and I didn't want to miss an opportunity to make new friends.
So, I put on my big girl panties and dragged myself over there. (That's a lie. I don't wear panties under my bike shorts--can't stand the VPL. But you know what I mean.)
Liz (the girlfriend) and I rode about 6 miles. I don't know exactly how far others went, but we were happy with our ride. When we coasted back into the park, I felt 100% better than when we pulled out. I don't know what the magic is, but everything changes when Molly and I hit the trail. It's not like she carries me away from problems—more like toward the truest version of myself, someone who meets the road when it rises and gives thanks when it falls.
As everyone finished, twenty or so folks gathered around the tailgate of a pickup. Someone set a cup filled with sunflowers and zinnias in the center of the truck's bed. Lovely trays and bowls appeared, filled with things like heirloom tomato and mozzarella salad, cherry pineapple cake, and homemade salsa. I pulled out my offerings and a bottle of wine. Five or six other bottles appeared along with stemware and napkins.
In various groups, we talked about books and travel and life. We laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Several people asked to exchange email addies. This is exactly what I've needed since I moved here: a broader circle of friends, people who love books and music and celebrating life, people who put sunflowers in the bed of a pickup and drink wine from beautiful glasses in the middle of a parking lot. Illogical. Impractical. Infused with YES!
Every day feels like an adventure waiting to happen with Molly and me. We be blooming, all right.