I hear the familiar sound of my SPDs click into place just before the sun rises over the nearby hill. Breath escapes my lungs and hangs silently in the morning mist, only to dissipate quickly as a sort of natural “green light” to signal it’s time to go. Lights on for safety, I find my spin as I start to leave the neighborhood.

An old friend waits patiently nearby, as I settle into my morning pace. Traffic is light, and my friend pushes me to spin faster as he starts to tilt upward. This friend has been around for ages, at least since the last glacier receded around 10,000 years ago, creating this illusion of a hill. I say illusion, only to the fact that this hill is the remnants of glacial runoff. Geologic history is cold and cruel, much like the morning air paired with this tilted piece of Earth.

At the apex, my legs are feeling the burn of the climb, just in time for the sunrise to warm the rest of my cold body. I take a pull from my water bottle, snap a picture with my phone, and prepare for my descent back to my cozy residence. There’s coffee inside, and it’s waiting to help start my day.

Little does it know that my day started long before it slowly dripped into my carafe, thanks to my automatic setting. It will never know that the cold air and Earth started my day before the caffeine would enter my bloodstream.

The pedals go click and off I go.


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