Speeding Up to Slow Down

The flowers were breathtakingly beautiful: bougainvillea like I've only seen in Hawaii and cannot grow at home in Houston. They covered a wall almost 15 feet long and half as high. Brilliant sprays of orange, red and fuchsia offset against a background of the deepest green. I saw all this out of the corner of my eye as I sped by at 25 mph, pedaling as fast as I could. The peloton of riders was ahead of me, and I didn't want to be last for lunch. It didn't matter that I was in the Puglia region of southern Italy, cycling along the "heel" of the Italian "boot" on a once-in-a-lifetime trip. It didn't matter that I was supposed to be vacationing, taking in the sights. What mattered at that particular moment was where I was going and how fast I could get there. The thought that I was here to relax, see the countryside and restore my sense of balance hadn't quite taken root in my mind. I had to move fast, catch up, keep up and get ahead - everything I had traveled 15 hours by plane to Italy NOT to do. I wasn't the only one who'd forgotten why we were here. Fifteen other riders, including my husband Tom, were all going down the same track - the one we'd come here to leave behind us. There was one difference. They were all faster riders than I was. That meant I had to WORK a lot harder just to keep the unchanging view of the back of the peloton in sight. And to think, I had come here to play. "Riding Lesson" Restores the Joys of the Road With the realization that if I kept doing what I was doing, I'd be WORKING for 7 days, I put on my brakes and slowed to a stop. Checking my mirror for traffic, I turned around as three other riders pedaled by. One rider asked if I was okay. Now I was okay because I was choosing to honor not only Puglia, but myself and the reason I came here in the first place. I hadn't come all the way to Italy to ride with the peloton; I'd come to relax. "Stopping to smell the flowers" is an overused clich