14 June 2014

A Cycling Poem

For a nice day in Colorado

I had a nice bike ride today, in 70˚ weather with country love songs on my ear piece. I was reminded of a poem I wrote a couple years ago and thought I would share it again this evening.

Cyclist - a poem

I pump the tires.
Place the bottles where they belong.
Hear the click of my right shoe. Half a pedal stroke, a second click. I'm off.
The cool air flows over my arms. I am moving.
The first minutes offer a snapshot of what my ride will be. The first gear chosen tells me how my legs will feel.
I find my spot on the saddle and fix my gaze forward.
My mind clears and I settle into a rhythm. In the same moment a flash of confusion tells me I've just begun, I've ridden for hours, it is time to stop, I want more. This is experience talking.
I've ridden a bike a lot. My body remembers ever mile as one.
It is a knowing comfort on a bike, a place to feel at home.
The notion of a new mile covered, a new corner turned, has me longing for more.
I turn the Pedals. I am a road cyclist.
With a long way to go.

~ poem by Karen Rakestraw (Pedal Dancer), September 2011