Air

It was short and sweet and to the point — The business email of rides — All bullet points, no flowery language, just the road, the bike and and an oh-so-brief chance to let go. To breath. To touch what you can not see…

One minute I was attacking what’s left of the work week and the next, I was feeding this frenzied sense to hang my knee out just a little bit further. To find that long, lost sense of exposure. To the air. To the ground. To the asphalt. To life.

It has been too long since I last felt the wind whistle past… Far to long… And I can’t even articulate how badly I want to feel it go by… To taste it. To see it. To believe it. To become one with the machine again…