A few weeks ago, I rode my bicycle 30 miles with 3,000 other people.
It’s an annual fund-raiser to support a Detroit neighborhood and to help establish more bike paths within the city. I’ve never done anything like it before and I’m proud that I only stopped once for a bathroom, water, granola bar break.
I’ve wanted to do something like this for a long time. I have a long list of “things” I want to do. Most of them just sit passively on paper, trapped as hopes and wishes.
When I learned of the bike tour, I felt an energy building inside, the kind of thing that cannot be ignored. I considered: We didn’t really have the money to pay for the entrance fee. I didn’t have a bike helmet. My bike was in the basement, bolted onto a CycleOps. Since Girl from the East came into my life, I’ve only rode at the gym or in my basement. I longed for the wind in my hair and the open road.
Determined to make this happen, I accepted the entrance fee as an early birthday present. I found a bike helmet on sale. I hauled my husband’s neglected bike into a local bike shop for a check-up. I teamed up with one of the moms at Girl from the East’s school and we made it happen. I practiced long rides for weeks.
On the day of the tour, as I pedaled along the city streets, through historic neighborhoods, past abandoned factories, high school football games in progress, and along the breezy shores of the Detroit River, I felt the stress evaporate from my heavily saturated psyche. With each turn of the wheel, I felt lighter, freer, like anything was possible on this brisk morning.
When the tour was over, I stood in a food line braced against gusts of frigid air, my leg muscles twitched and my hands turned a little blue (I was severely underdressed for the day). I vowed that I would do something for me, something challenging and fun at least once a month. I’m really bad about pampering myself. I’ve never:
* had a full-body massage (I had a foot and leg massage in Beijing in one of its famous massage houses.)
* had a manicure or pedicure (I’m a DIY girl, but maybe just once I could splurge and let someone do it for me.)
* purchased anything indulgent just for me, such as a bouquet of flowers or an expensive piece of jewelry
Here are some things I want to do (notice full body massage is not on the list):
* skydive on my 50th birthday
* go storm chasing in tornado alley
* really learn Mandarin (I started lessons, but let it drop due to the cost.)
* attend a writer’s workshop and learn how to write what’s really inside
* Spend a few days alone in a non-haunted cabin in the woods to do whatever the hell I like
If I live to be 90, I am more than halfway there now. If I don’t make it that far, my life is three-quarters over. I’m not trying to sound morbid, but the dark circles, fine lines, and other signs of aging made me realize if not now, when?
I’ve led a fairly predictable and safe life so far. So much of what I’ve wanted to do with my life I’ve put on hold. If I keep putting myself at the back of the line, I’ll never get my turn. And that’s how I’ve felt for some time now, at the back of the line. The kids need shoes. The roof is leaking. The car tires are bald. Insurance rates went up. On and on it goes. Time is running out.
Now, I’m vowing to take time, maybe just a day, maybe three or four if I can get away with it, to reclaim “me” time in my life.
In two weeks, I’m unplugging for at least five days and going on a silent retreat. I’m both excited and terrified to do this. It will be hard, but I know I’ll emerge stronger and better for having done it.
What’s on your list?