500 miles on a bike. bicycle. (When I say bike, people think I mean motorcycle.)

My husband (Kevin) and I are preparing for our 7th annual, 500 mile bicycle trip. We start at our home and loop through the Midwest, arriving back home one week later.
To answer the most frequently asked questions: We stay in motels. Kevin pulls a small trailer. We average 500 miles per trip and 70 miles per day. (Although I have traveled 116 miles on one glorious wind blown day!) Primarily we ride on highways, looking for wide shoulders and low traffic.
Is it hard? Well, ummm, yeah.
Then why?
Being an almost decision-free vacation means it is very stress-free. We simply decide in the morning which direction we will go, then we get on our bikes and ride – trying our best to coordinate our exhaustion/collapse with the availability of a motel room.
As I get out of decision-making mode and into a place of simple observation and reflection, I tune in to the hundreds of variations of green. I notice every smell. The clouds are all unique. The houses and their yard trash become anthropological wonders.
The biggest hurdle is the start to the day.
I groan myself awake at 6:30am, take some Advil and check the wind direction. I eat some fruit or nuts and force myself onto the bike. I feel sorry for myself, especially the part that meets the seat. I tell Kevin, that today I probably won’t be able to go as far. (He hears this nearly every morning of the trip.)
As the miles loom before me, I assess and reassess the six outside factors that influence the day’s ride: wind, temperature, surface, shoulder, traffic and hills. Somewhere around Mile 8 I’m able to see that all factors aren’t really against me. (And if they truly are all against me, I should change routes or just shut it down and get a hotel room. No one is making me do this, right?)
I stop worrying about how hard it “might” be or how difficult it “will” be. This allows me to start adjusting to what actually is.
When I make it to Mile 10, I realize I’ve already ridden half the distance I wanted to accomplish before my morning breakfast break. Just another 10 miles and I can guiltlessly stop for what ever presents itself. That might be a cup of coffee and pancakes, or it might be a granola bar, juice and a donut while I read the newspaper under a shade tree.
I start appreciating the blue of the cornflowers, and I spend a minute fondling a youthful memory of gathering tiger lilies for my mother. My thoughts drift to her current health and appreciating her in my life before I notice a wheat field, and wonder why there are so many less than there used to be.
As I follow my thoughts, I’ve now passed a barrier. My breathing evens, and I appreciatively observe the sun on my face.
One morning, as I was overcoming that 10-mile attitude barrier, I suddenly realized I was actually enjoying the rain that had almost stopped me from leaving the hotel room that morning. All the other factors were in my favor: it was warm, and I was riding on a quiet, flat, wide-shouldered highway with the wind at my back. I thought about how few times in my adult life I actually have been out in the rain. I noticed the rain felt good on my skin.
I was grateful that it was gentle and that my visor was keeping my glasses clear. Life was good.
Are you on a challenging journey?
Maybe you are on a challenging journey. Perhaps you are figuratively groaning yourself awake as you assess how hard it is to change your habits.
You need to honestly assess all the factors and realize that everything is not against you. You need to push through Mile 8 and adjust the biggest factor of all – your attitude.
By Mile 9, you’ll be approaching the zone. You’ll have established habits and be ticking off the miles/the pounds/the debt.
As you push through Mile 10 and move into acceptance, you’ll find pleasure in the things you “can” enjoy and find you can let go of the obsession about what you “can’t” have.
You may even recognize a “halfway-to-breakfast” landmark approaching. You’ll find that despite the fact you occasionally have to turn down a piece of cake or stop eating fast food, there are still plenty of positive things on which to focus.
Life is good.