Writing has been winning over riding. This is a problem.

I want to make a writing-riding body. Body of mine. Body of work. Body-machine. Body-machine-terrain. Terrain is soil. Terrain is a keyboard. Click, click, click. Whirrr of the freewheel, wheels spinning in my mind. Click, click, click. Crank it out, crank it out. The words spin me around and I have no idea where I’m going. The maps are useless when you can’t figure out where you are situated.

Getting lost requires endurance, confidence, and skill. And snacks. Glycogen replenishment, the mundanity of writing that’s easy to forget. Endorphins, adrenaline, and quick smart moves. That’s the exciting stuff, you junkie. Relish the slog too. The exhaustion even as you keep moving forward. Mind and muscles sore. The best cure is a quick spin to work out all that built up gunk.

Writing. Riding. Wriding.