Halfway Right

I have always loved rural Japan more than its cities. The long winding cycling paths along rivers for tens of kilometres, the quiet routes set aside just for bikes, the tiny stations where a train comes once an hour, the lone vending machine at the peak of a mountain road. It’s simply lovely.

So last year, I got myself a new bike. Nothing exotic, just some entry-level road bike I gifted myself for my birthday. A car moves too fast, a train only stops where it wants to, and walking can’t cover the distance. Bicycle? The perfect choice to enjoy rural Japan.

As for the still, no river path or mountain road this time. Just a park near my home on an ordinary afternoon. I leaned the bike, sat down, and enjoyed the golden hour. For once, it was the subject instead of the way to get somewhere.

Alas, it did not go anywhere, and neither did I. My knee has been complaining for a while now. I asked too much of it too often, and now it’s asking me to slow down. I don’t regret a single kilometre, though. Falling for those roads was the right call. Riding them like there was no tomorrow, maybe not so much. I’ll be back out there soon, hopefully a little wiser, because last time I was only halfway right.