I’ve been riding now for over a month and, by my calculations, have only missed two days. It’s pretty cool to be getting physical exercise on a regular basis. It helps me feel good all over. And lately I’ve also been going to church in the morning, which should add to the overall feeling goodness.
I say “should” because, in reality, I am often frustrated by our morning worship. Oh it’s great to receive Eucharist – in fact, it’s awesome. But the whole process of our daily worship is just annoying to me. I have blogged about this previously but it was mostly about our Saturday night situation.
So here I am, doing everything I can to feel better physically, mentally and spiritually and the end result is a new intimacy with roadkill and the desire to not become it.
Let me tell you what it’s like, just let me tell you! When I ride, I like to go out early – say 5:30 – 6:00 am because there aren’t too many vehicles on the road at that time. I never use an IPOD or any other music-playing device. I usually wear my helmet. I’m always listening for vehicles. I also keep my eyes on the road so I can avoid unlucky critters, branches and broken glass.
Sometimes I get a late start and then I’m at the mercy of the mother of all vehicles – the landscape truck with trailer. Yup, these crazy landscapers have to park on the shoulder of the road so the homeowner can get in and out of their driveway. And it’s usually on one of the many inclines. And always with traffic coming from behind. So that means the car coming from behind has to slow down or wait until my fat ass oasses the landscaper’s truck and trailer – remember, I don’t go so fast. Today I tackled two of those trucks… AND a garbage truck.
And trust me, garbage trucks are worse because they STINK. And, as I said, I don’t ride real fast and garbage trucks leave a waft of stank in front of you as they pull away.
And then – ok, I know I shouldn’t complain about church. I mean I am so blessed to be able to get to Mass every morning. Some parishes don’t have priests to celebrate. Some parishes aren’t even themselves anymore, what with all the merging and so on – I’m really sorry but I just have to say it. Why does that woman pick whose God-awful 300-year old songs? Why? I think God thinks they’re awful too. On Thursday, I didn’t sing in protest of the awfulness. I just stood there with my teeth clenched. On Friday, she wasn’t there and the alternate songpicker picked way better songs – songs that are only 30 years old. I sang those.
When will the anger end?