I didn’t plan on going out today. Infact is was more than in the plan to just sit in the house and just allow another warm fall day to come and go. I had grab bag of excuses, the same ones that I have right before the rear wheel leaves the front door. The air was to cold, the traffic was too heavy, there wasn’t enough light. There was to much light. I would be better off waiting until the evening. I would be better riding in the morning. I had an excuse for every single moment of the day, each one would be taking the time to ride and pushing it further away. Before I would know it, the day was ending and I was retiring to bed. Looking back all this was a distraction from the fact that I wanted the reward and satisfaction from cycling, but I didn’t want to put in the work to get it. That was not about to happen today, not today. I made sure to eat something before the work day ended. Tossing down a healthy piece of food, along with some bread and lots of water, I ignored all the ‘excuses’ that told me I wouldn’t need to get on the bike. After all it was a about being healthy not about impressing anyone with my Strava Calendar. At the last meeting of the day, I took the bike and my gear and headed out the door. I had planned on taking the longest route I had. Fifty plus miles seemed like a good way to spend the evening. It would be a good way to invest my time and I would feel like I had done something noteworthy. It was not until I reached the three mile point that I decided that covering fifty plus miles would be a stretch. The fast setting sun would leave me in the dark with twenty plus miles left to get home. I could do it, but the risk was more than I was willing to gamble. Pushing the pedal’s I sent the bike forward, surprising myself with each ascent. Where I would normally slow my cadence to navigate a climb, I found myself pulling up on the pedals, giving the wheels and the chain more torque. The bike climbed the hills and ramps like they were flat ground. By the time I reached Bel Air, I was thinking that this would be one of those rides where I would simply follow a memorized route. Take the bike behind the mall, ride with traffic along the descent and fight my way up the hill near Anne’s playground. That route I have done more times than I can count. Instead I powered my way through Bel Air. Taking the bike upward in to the historical city, I passed the police station, the courthouse, the shops and the restaurants, finally ending up passing the church’s and supermarkets that looked less than inviting. Finally reaching my old enemy, the one road that I wanted to make my way back, the road that caused me to get off the bike and walk, I made my way up to Vale Road. The last time I took this road, it was a fight to get back to the top. The road has a number of noteable and capable rises before it takes a steep slope downward. In a car you wouldn’t notice it. On a bike, anything less than riding the brakes all the way down would be suicide. The slope was so sharp that even the heaviest of wheels will spin up to thirty miles per hour. Add to this that the road would shrink from four lanes to two in the blink of an eye. Unless you are paying attention, the side shoulder that you rode approaching, would disappear. This would leave you and the angry drivers alone. At the bottom of the road, once you leave the slope, the road levels off and begins to slowly rise. Like stairs, the pavement would lift itself off the level gradient sharply before leveling off again. The final of these rises would be a 12 percent gradient, straight upwards. The good part about this gradient is that you can see the top, as it does not curve or hide behind any obstructions. The bad part about this is that if you are not in the right mind set, with the right gears selected, and with the right breathing, you will have to walk part of this hill. That’s what happened to me last time. I could see the hill’s summit. I could see the top. I could see summit. I could see it, and like most people, I rushed toward it. As a result of that I gassed myself, and had to stop half way. This time when I reached the last hill, I lowered the gear on the bike. I locked my eyes on the top of the summit, began to breath deeply and paced myself up the hill. This time the pedals didn’t hurt my legs. This time the hill didn’t stab my back. I wasn’t in any sort of pain. This left me feeling accomplished but the satisfaction that I hoped would be present when I finished this hill was not present.