Every year about this time I begin to think about my goals for the upcoming year.  Exercise is always high on the list.  I joined the 24-Hour club ten years ago and have yet to see the renovations done on the gym just down the hill from me.  (I paid three years up front and now only have to pay $49 a year for full membership.  How can I give that up?  I may actually go someday.) The 24 Hour Club took over a furniture store next door and doubled in size.  I drive by and wave.  Rick moved a recumbent exercycle into our bedroom two years ago, and I ride it every morning while watching “Match Game” and “Lingo”.  It’s about as close to bicycle riding as I get. 

Oh, I think about riding a bike.  Lots of people do in this area.  Many come to train for the Tour de France.  Up hill, down hill, all around the hills.  I did have a bike at one time, but it was canabalized by my children years ago.  They needed a tire?  They knew where to find a free one.  A chain?  A pedal?  There were a few nuts and bolts left in the space the bike took up in Rick’s Rivers Aviation Services warehouse. 

On the way home the other day, I was thinking about what fun it would be to ride a bike.  Oh, boy, oh, boy!  And then I spotted one of those sleek muscled, spandex-clothed helmeted heroes “riding” up the hill.  Or should I say weaving up hill, pumping faster and faster and going slower and slower, red in the face with exertion and still a quarter of a mile to go before the grade eased.  And just up ahead was a lamp post on which perched two very large black carrion birds.  They put their heads close together and I could almost hear them say, “Oh, goody!  Here comes another one…  Yum, yum.” 

Ah, the joys of wearing ugly sweats (or pajamas) and ride a stationary bike parked in front of a television with a shower a few feet away. 

Let the good times roll!