Saturday Morning
Saturday morning. A day when I rise early and the rest of the world seems to sleep in a little later. My routine is pretty standard, starting off with yoga, a quick breakfast, and then I hop on my bike for a three-mile ride down to spin class.
What makes Saturdays so special for me is the ride to and from class. At this time of the season it's dark when I head out, thus the world takes on a different shape and feel. The headlight on my bike illuminates, if only a brief second, parts of the road that seem to morph as I go by. The air is nip and crisp to the breath, the darkness enveloping everything it touches. The Fox River rolls along on my left and the faint outline of a squirrel crosses the trail.
Except for the squirrel the trail is empty. Most of the walkers, bikers, and runners won't touch it's pavement until the sun begins to break above the horizon. I'm alone and it feels good.
The lights from a car on the adjacent road glance off me, I'm fairly certain forming an eerie silhouette for the driver, perhaps the thought of a Ring Wraith crosses their mind.
This dark landscape creates a different sensory perception and is the perfect environment to walk the recesses of my mind.
As I make my way toward my destination there's a slight rising climb for about 100 meters and then I make a sweeping u-turn into the parking lot where I go another 50 meters to the finish.
I love this part of the ride and the story in my head is always the same. As I begin the ascent I'm always out of the saddle, consistent cadence, as I make my way up. I imagine I'm Lance Armstrong coming into the ski station at L'Alpe D'Huez for his first victory on this epic climb. That image is burned on my brain and I feel my imitation is spot on. From my cadence, to my position on the bike, everything - except I don't victory salute when I hit the line.
It's this image that I take away into my spin class and sets me up to get ready to go to work for the next forty minutes.
The ride home is a completely different experience. The landscape takes on a new look and my focus is more on cooling down and taking in the beautiful scenery that a river town like Oswego has to offer. There's something energetic about this leisurely ride back home. The trail is now buzzing with early morning life as people set out to get their workout in before the hurriedness of the day sets in.
I move along casually, announcing my way along the trail to alert those ahead. I stare off at the river, usually catching the site of some form of water fowl. Off in the distance I see a river serpent, its head raised above the surface, but as I draw closer it becomes apparent that it's just a piece of wood sticking out of the water.
Everyone I pass gets a friendly morning greeting. After all, we're part of the same club. We love the experiences that happen before most of the world is up and moving.
I ride a good portion of the way next to the river before making my ascent into downtown Oswego. I pass the bike shop, always hoping that something cool will catch my eye. I pass the Oswego Inn, which is pretty deserted and has that post-Nawlins look, the post office, and the bank. A little under a mile takes me onto the Grove Rd. trail, my home trail, and the last of the route before I hit my door.
My closing thoughts are always fairly consistent upon my return home. I love Oswego and I'm elated that I can partake in many of the joys and benefits it has to offer. As the cold season starts to set in, I sometimes think I'd like to live somewhere warm but truth be told, I need the four seasons and all of the amenities that go along with it. Oswego is the perfect setting for someone of my nature.