My brother likes to text me after a bike ride and share his mileage.
I always say, “That’s nice,” or “Awesome!”
But, really, I’m thinking show-off!
He knows I could never keep up with Mr. Road Racer.
He taunts me with his biking prowess.
In the end, though, I don’t really care.
I prefer non-competition and enjoy bike rides as fast or slow, as long or short as I deem necessary.
I prefer to enjoy the landscape, breathe in the air, and not think too much about miles.
And I don’t like a lot of hills even though I’ve been up and down my share.
My brother knows this.
Yet, he engages in continued smart-aleck taunting.
One fine Saturday, Mr. Road Racer texts me that he completed 21 miles on the bike.
I texted back that I would be going out later and maybe try to match his distance (it was a nice day for a long bike ride).
So, I went on said bike ride via the local Wiouwash trail, took a few photos and then brother and I finished our text.
Hills are fun? No. They may be a test of leg strength and aerobic abilities, but I would not call them fun.
I’ll leave that business up to Mr. Road Racing Hill Climber.
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