I didn't own it, but I sure did rent it fair and square

I wish I were more lyrical sometimes, or that perhaps a language could be reserved for truly spectacular sights and experiences...y'know, when a new yogurt flavor is described as "awesome", I can't very well use that word to describe the ocean transforming into shifting gray granite under the moonlight as I ride my bike through the silent dusk. I can't use "amazing" to describe the Los Angeles river channel at dawn, filled with ducks and rusting shopping carts both floating easily through the mirror stretching out below, the concrete playground of a psychotic child's mind, the graffiti melting and softening in the light which seemed to be coming from the earth rather than the blue-gray sky.

My muscles are strangely not sore. I abandoned any hope of training, ate a lot of bananas the week before, drank a lot of water, and quadrupled my longest single-day bike ride: 130 miles at a 16.3 mph pace (and that included hills that dropped my heart as they rose to the sky). I was not the strongest rider, but not the weakest either. As I spent my birthday this year cycling through Southern California's hills, I thought of myself two birthdays ago--God if I could buy a bike for everyone, what a beautiful world this would be...