Pedaling on the edge of perfection
With day-old disc soreness from here down, I stretched and primped. I was preparing for a bike ride. The first since October? Somewhere during that hour of spinning through the streets, soreness slipped out and a smile slipped in. It wasn't the temporary kind brought on by singing dancing Indians or Buffy characters cut from that cloth, but the kind from somewhere deeper. The kind that says life isn't standing still; I'm not standing still. I'm pedaling just on the edge of perfection. Heart beats. Lungs gasp. Legs churn. Wind blows. Smile grows. Pedaling on the edge of perfection.