I may be riding a bicycle across the country, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am basically lazy. I hate the morning when I have to walk 200 yards to the restroom. I hate the packing and unpacking. I hate the beginning of each ride, and there’s a lesson in that. Every time I hesitated at the beginning, it was probably a mistake that made life harder later. Procrastination.

On this morning, I really resented the distance to the restroom. In some campgrounds, it’s no big deal to wander off into the woods and water a tree. In this one, wedged ungracefully between a farm field and a sluggish, muddy river, that wasn’t really an option. By the time I made it to the restroom, things were pretty desperate. I felt fortunate to make it in time. Ahhhhhh. Much better. My outlook improved radically in less than 60 seconds. That didn’t really improve the city park. It was grubby.

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