When I first started riding, and up until just recently, I used to diligently keep track of how many miles I rode each week. Every ride seemed to be a push for more miles and in shorter time. I'd vigilantly check my speedometer during and after each ride, and would add up the miles in my head as if my bike performance was somehow tied to my value as a man (erm... although I'd never come out and actually admit that - at least not in public).

Then the battery in my bicycle computer died, and I went for a couple of weeks without being able to track anything - no mileage, no cadence, no speed. Just me, the road, the wind, and good conversations with my riding buddies.

Somewhere along the way I started losing interest in the miles, and started to appreciate the shear pleasure of just riding. I started looking around more at the scenery we pass by, and the same old ride starting looking fresh and feeling new.

I'm focusing more on technique now as well, such as the right time to stand and attack when ascending a hill to keep the momentum going (which completes the climb much faster and makes it less of an exertion overall, when compared to gearing down and settling in for a slower paced grind). Sure, there are many hills where my granny gear is all I can turn, but I'm focusing more on breaking up the grind by standing at periodic intervals, and it's helping me keep up with Dave and Frank a little better to.

And for some reason those old Police tunes keep running through my mind, like... "Roxanne, you don't have to put out the red lights..." and "We are spirits, in a material world..." - one of my personal favorites when my thighs feel like they're going to explode, because it helps me shift my mental focus away from the pain and envision myself as some kind of supernatural spirit, even though I know that has no spiritual backing in the Bible whatsoever.

That doesn't mean I don't still get excited about the miles we ride, it just means that's not my focus as much anymore. I was pumped when Dave told Frank and I that we had ridden 68 miles Sunday morning on our usual before-church ride!

We started at 6:00 a.m. and ending right at 10 - just in time to rush into the shower, throw on some clothes, and then endure the leg burn while we stood and sang worship songs... waiting earnestly for the magic words from the pastor: "You may all be seated now"

Thank God for Advil, eh?! And beautiful scenery, and rolling hills, and morning sunrises. They are all worthy distractions that make it easy to forget the need for tracking miles, and just focus on enjoying the wind through our helmets, and being thankful that my near-40 body can still pull my bike and me along for 4 hours straight.