I Like to Bike

Talk about obvious statements. This should be a given considering the subject matter of my blog. So why is it something I seem to forget so often? As I mentioned in a previous post, I have spent the past couple of weeks wallowing in self-pity and sloth on my couch. The success of my cruiser rides Friday evening gave me a good reason to get out on the trail on my mountain bike first thing Saturday morning. As I was riding the "Enter Sandman" trail (coincidentally named for my husband, who helped build these original trails years ago), I was enjoying the warmth and the sunshine and catching a little air going over some of the small dirt mounds (have no idea what the actual name for them is). I thought to myself, this is so much more fun and better for my psyche than reclining like a slug in my living room. And this strange phenomenon in which I have temporary amnesia about how much I like to ride my bike doesn't only happen when I'm in pity party mode. It seems to happen somewhat frequently. I'll be on a roll for a while, riding all the time and then suddenly, I can't seem to get motivated to get out there. Of course, as soon as I'm riding, I remember. This is the fun stuff. So, why does it take so much effort to get me out there sometimes?