Tragedy and Epiphany

Cycling was going well. I rode 4 times in one week. I found a nice rhythm.  Hard to do with work, travel, kid's softball and meetings.  Last week the weather forecast was spectacular, and I was planning on getting in 100 miles.  An ambitious plan, but a plan none the less.  The dog Parker wasn't feeling well so I took him to the vet. We took him in a few days before but the vet couldn't find anything. This time she found a growth in his lung.  All cycling stopped.  We spent the week going from vet to specialist to try to find a solution.  There isn't one.  He is a good dog, and I will miss him terribly.  We don't know how long he has.  We are doing everything we can to make his last bit of time full of delicious treats and couch naps.  When the time comes we will have a vet visit the house to help him pass in the comfort of his home.  Until then someone has to be with him most of the time.  We are taking turns working from home.  

Before Parker got sick, I only had Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and every other weekend to squeeze in an hour or 2 on the bike.  Not a whole lot of time for a guy to change his life.  The question is, how does one ride under these conditions?  I don't know.  I do know I have a desire to get on my bike.  I do know I'm catching myself thinking about the time I have free, and wondering if I could get in a quick 20 .  I do know I don't care if it's raining.  Or if its windy, or I only have an hour of light left.  Something has changed.  The thing I have realized is that through this tragedy, I have gotten closer to the thing I have been wanting.  The desire to be active.  Normally I would give up at the first sign of inconvenience.  This whole cycling debacle has been a comedy of errors.  You would have thought I would have gotten the "f**k-its" after a while.  I think because I set a goal and involved my friends by writing on this blog, it has done for me what I have not been able to do for myself.  It has gotten me from the couch to the really uncomfortable seat that lately has made my junk numb.  If anybody has any thoughts on that, let me know. 

The moral of this story is... I don't know what the moral of the story is.  I do know that now that I have less time available, I am anxious to get out and be active.  Besides, the way my life is, the more I ride, the more stupid shit I do, the more stories I have to tell.