I decided to go out for a ride today. There were three main reasons. 1. I need to. I'll get fat if I don't ride. 2. I need to. I won't reach my goals this year if I don't ride. 3. I need to. I really wanted to stay inside with Rinti and eat candy while looking at pictures of fat people shopping at WalMart. But if I do that, I'll lose the desire and the ability to ride.
Now that I look at those reasons, it occurs to me that there is only one reason I ride: I need to. It's true that bicycle riding is fun for me. Although it takes longer now for the happy brain chemicals to kick in. Sometimes I have to ride for an hour and a half before I start to feel happy. But I need to continually push myself out the door. The alternative is dying a slow death indoors. A death so slow that no one, not even me will notice that it's happening. Just a gradual loss of flexibility, a gradual loss of muscle tone, a gradual gain in weight. Then one day - boom. I'm dead. They'll say it happened suddenly, but I will know as I lie there in my grave waiting for the resurrection day that it wasn't sudden at all. It was gradual. It was slow. It was because I didn't ride my bike every day, or at least nearly every day.