Gusts of wind pummel my face
As thoughts of nothingness
Swirl around my flimsy blue cap

I gasp in pain and deep regret
All the while berating myself for the hell
I’ve chosen for myself this morning

An occasional whiff of manure
Permits the pretense of cycling far from the city
Though the noisy tarmac keeps pace to my right

The tiny seat digs cruelly into my butt cheeks
And they scream at me to stop
Having not yet accepted the brutality of this tortuous trip

I ignore their protests even as my arms burn with effort
Teeth gritted in sheer determination
There is no way I will give in so soon

“On your left,” a gravelly voice calls out
Interrupting my self-imposed miserableness
Her speed knocks me off course as she appears out of thin air

Random granny whisks past me at mile marker 13½
Properly fitted in a puffy vest and shiny helmet
Which protects a head covered in short peppery hair

Crisp laced sneakers pump petals
In concert with her muscular calves of steel
As the wind laughs at me in her wake

Originally written on April 17, 2010