My apologies in advance if I ushered in the End of Days by sleeping until 9:00 on Sunday morning. It was highly out of character for me but it felt really good.
That out of routine move set the rest of my Sunday morning on an unusual path. The sky was blue, the temperatures were on their way up towards 55 degrees and there was a light breeze. Normally I would have made time, even if it were just an hour, to swing a leg over the bike and go for a ride.
Instead, I firmly planted myself on the deck with coffee, magazines and the paper and just… sat.
At this time of year when the weather is starting to turn from the gray of winter to the greens and blues of spring, there is a strange guilt that I feel when I don’t go out for a ride. Maybe guilt isn’t the right word, but it’s something close.