Hooky

Sometimes I can’t ride my bike because I have too much to do and my list is getting longer. My phone is buzzing and my emails are stacking up. It’s really nice outside, and I could probably play hooky if I really really wanted to, but sometimes I don’t want to. Sometimes I rather ride my bike to the grocery store instead of on single track so that I have groceries rather than spend one more night scraping by on peanut butter. I rather just do my dishes and laundry than add to my Strava miles because my dishes are real, and they are stacked up high in my sink and sometimes Strava can wait. 

I rather ignore the phone calls – sometimes I feel like I should ignore the phone calls – let my dog wait just a few more hours for his walk, skip the post office one more day, let my delinquent library books gather one more speck of dust all so that I can absorb the sun on my skin and breathe the fresh air, but I did that yesterday when I rode my bike instead of checked off my list, and now I just feel anxious and bogged down with all the things I need to get done. 

My bike is screaming at me from the garage, I know I would have a really good time spinning through the trees and I would feel really good after I got my heart rate up and raised my endorphins, but the things don’t go away: the dishes, laundry, phone calls, groceries, dog, emails, work, projects. They don’t go away and they end up joining me on my rides, sitting heavy on my shoulders as I’m trying to lightly fly down hills.

So for today, I have to hang up the helmet, check things off the to-do list so that tomorrow when I play hooky from life again, I have one less phone call or email to return while I’m sitting trail-side on my bike.