A Retrospective
150km
Chris Edwards
A
s I entered my late
thirties a few years back, life felt stagnant. Sure, I wasn’t starving, things were going good at work. But as I peered curiously into the forest of my soul, I saw only shade and no trees. Not so much darkness, not an abyss. Just the greyness of mediocrity. Unfulfilled. Soon after, I embarked on a voyage into a world of deep and rich hues that rekindled the passions lost since onset of adulthood. When I was six, I had a sparkling new BMX from Canadian Tire. But I couldn’t ride it. Didn’t know how. Kids would ask at school 32 // Community Now!
where this new bike was. I told them it had been stolen. At last I learned how to ride, the last person in my grade. Who knew that one day cycling would be my rebirth. For others, they may seek peace in art, adventure on white-water, or invent technology that changes the world. For me, I was saved by 12 gears and the hum of tire rolling on pavement. 150km is a long ride. Even for a seasoned veteran. But it is the perfect distance. It starts with anticipation and nervousness. Then the pain begins as the heart begins to push the oxygen down into your calves. You leave the world behind as the body and mind begin to charge. The road ahead becomes shorter as you speed to your objective. The
