First bike ride

I seized the moment to ride my mountain bike the other day - the first ride of the season. The first ride brings so much promise, and it will hopefully be the first of many rides to come over the next seven or eight months.

Sun beamed strongly during the morning hours, warming the air just enough to take the nip out of it in the afternoon, when I took my ride. The winds picked up substantially, though, especially on the trail, and it seemed like I was riding against it both ways, but more so on the first half of the ride. The back end, which is slightly uphill, turned out to be easier than usual, which was good because I was running late.

Bike rides, even if you're not going that slow, give you so much opportunity to observe things. You get to watch people, their dogs, little kids struggling to pedal and keep up with their families, the rising water in a Hebron swamp, a tree leaning from the side of a grassy marsh at a 45-degree angle, looking as if it'll drop at the gentlest breeze.

It felt good to move the legs, to power my own movement. Running on the treadmill or elliptical during the colder months just isn't the same. There is no current of air to breathe in or birds to hear when running in my basement or at the gym.

Biking puts you in a trance of sorts, and after the first 10 or 15 minutes you can feel your body relax into it, even as your pulse is pounding. Music from my mp3 player helps provide an energy boost. The one that did it for me this time was Spacehog's "In the Meantime."

The only bummer of the ride - and I have feared this would someday happen - is that my mp3 player fell to the dirt path, perhaps hitting a stone, and the display window cracked. It still works, but it kind of pissed me off. I'll have to put the bulky leather case back on it to keep it going. Got lazy, there.

On the way home, clouds gathered above the trail, but by that time I'd been sweating. As I approached the parking lot, I saw a family of about six, including a woman who was partly disabled, pushing a walker. I silently gave the woman credit for getting outside, for not remaining a prisoner to her disability.

I threw my bike on my bike rack, and, as is customary, blared WEEI on the way home with the sunroof of the CR-V open. The trip home after a long ride is usually a blur, and it was on Saturday.

I pulled into my driveway, grabbed my bike off the bike rack, and put them both in the garage. While I was on the front walkway - in a seemingly eeriely planned way - the first raindrops struck the asphalt. They hit me for about two of my strides before I opened the door and it closed behind me.