It is between ninety and one hundred degrees as I climb steadily, the sun overhead shines down through my bike helmet and jersey and into my soul. The shadows from the trees on either side of the road fail to reach to the pavement. Everything about this moment says heat, yet I recognize this open stretch of road as a spot where, in springtime when the snow is retreating, I have had to turn around as the snow on the road becomes solid just around the corner.
The oddity of thinking of snow in the burning heat of summer reminds me of my own seasonality. Only a month ago I was lamenting my complete lack of fitness and now just between yesterday and today I will have nearly six hours of saddle time.
At times my physical setbacks seem unending, yet if I step back wisdom tells me this too will pass. After a spring that refused to come to an end, summer is here; dry, dusty and hot. Seeing the mountains now one would never imagine that in six months they will be blanketed with snow, subject to the long, cold dark nights of winter.
Yes, today shows no hint of any other day, but those days will come. I welcome today and I will welcome the changes when they happen. For now, I will pause, breathe deep and be grateful.
