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