Freedom of Choice

Last night I was making my mega cross-town commute home. It was a proper Melbourne Winter evening, with driving rain, cold and terrible obnoxious drivers. 40km in with 20km still to go, I was thoroughly wet. I'd just had the doctor in her Porche Cayenne pull out and pass me only to brake heavily so as to double park in the lane in front of me to wait for a parking spot. Having safely negotiated this, the next car to pull out and pass me, the passenger wound down his window and spat on me! Charming.

My coaching books tell me every ride must have a training objective. The objective of this ride was rapidly becoming, "tolerate it and survive".

Just about ready to lose my bottle it suddenly dawned on me. I can't change the weather, can't change the behaviour of other road users and can't suddenly decide I should have driven my car today. But I have choices I can make. I can decide to enjoy my ride in the rain. I can decide to concentrate fully on making myself as safe as possible. I can choose to let my legs spin free and easy and enjoy the feeling of not hammering myself for once.

Having made these choices, a miserable ride suddenly turned into an enjoyable one. I started to sing to myself a song dragged from my distant past. Chicago Transit Authority.

When I kiss you, I feel a thousand different feelings.

I'm covered with chills all over my body.

And while I feel them, I quickly try to decide which one

I should try to put into words, oh no,

Try to put into words.

Mostly I'm silent.

Only the beginning of what I want to feel forever.

Only the beginning, only just a start.

Beginnings - 1969

Now I just need to start to apply this to the rest of my life. (Maybe with a bit edgier sound-track.)

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