Since we live on a hill, as I may have mentioned once or twice before, when we get to the crossroads at the end of our lane we have two options: start our ride the hard way, by going uphill, and then enjoy the easy downhill bit on the way back, or do the opposite. Normally we're feeling energetic at the beginning of our family bike ride, and chose to do the hard part first. And there, basically, is where our family bike ride ends.
The boys zip effortlessly and happily up the hill - up and down and zigzag and across. Tom, with Rebecca behind him on her seat, follows them. Then ... then I come, far to the rear, moving at more or less the same pace as a heavy smoker, wondering all along whether I should stop to catch my breath, or whether, on a hillside such as ours, doing this would make it impossible ever to get the bike moving again.
On this weekend's "family bike ride," at the tail end of a summer when I'd made a resolution to get in shape and done little about it (although I did do an awful lot of hoeing, weeding, watering and gardening - have you ever asked yourself why these tasks never seem to count as "exercise"?!), I once again arrived at our destination last.
Our destination was a beautiful little corner of early-fall Mediterranean landscape, blanketed in wild erica plants full of pink blossoms, and strawberry trees adorned with their large, cheerful berries (a destination that offers some sweet rewards is always very welcome, we find).
We picked and munched on the red berries before we left for home, the boys still full of their never-ending boyish energy hiking up the cliff to get to even the most unreachable trees. I only had a few berries, and took the rest home: I was a little concerned that snacking on berries would make me pedal even slower on the ride home!
We're going off on a little family trip - by car! - and will be back on Monday. Have a great weekend!
