Remembering When

Tonight I almost went to the dark side of the moon (simply meaning I was going to go quiet for a while). Why? Because I’m feeling a bit guilty. Guilty about what? Taking on so many projects that I’m not spending as much time with my kids as I would like to. This whole journey has one purpose for me. To make me a better dad and I don’t want to become a distant one in the process.

However, as fate would have it, I found one more blog within me (but I might still go silent for a while because every journey requires time for introspection). Inspired by Cru Jones (see blog "Time to Get Rad"), I bought a mountain bike (not sure how to pay for it yet), jumped on it the moment I got home (I have never ridden a bike with gears), peddled like a maniac for 1.5 miles around my neighborhood in the dark with no helmet on, ripped my jeans at the cuff, splashed mud all over myself, and LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT!

So this journey has taken on a new twist – cross training on a mountain bike to condition my bum knee. It’s been so long since I've ridden a bike I forgot how good it feels to fly down a hill with the wind blowing against your face. I would not recommend doing this at night, but then again, riding in the dark adds a dose of suspense (like running into a pothole, flying through the air, and knocking out two front teeth).

WOW! I just had a flashback to junior high when I rode my bike to a girl’s house one night and… that’s another story. Ok, in the spirit of transparency here’s the full story. A friend of mine (a girl from school) invited me over to meet her friend (I guess that’s how things worked back in the day), we met and exchanged pleasantries, she told me she was leaving to Europe the next day, we promised to write each other, I rode home and snuck back into my house, I listened to a lame '80s love song over and over again, we wrote once, we never talked again, I never thought about that night again until now. The end.

So what’s tonight’s lesson. Remember to do things you loved doing as a kid. There is a reason you loved them. So what if the neighbors think you're crazy? Do it anyway as long as it doesn’t lead to imprisonment, poor health, listening to lame love songs from the '80s, pointless letter writing with girls that move away to Europe, growing a mullet like Richard Marx, etc…

If you either want to become nostalgic or laugh at my youthful foolishness, here is the love song noted above (with Spanish subtitles). And if you’re wondering, only one woman truly owns my heart – my wife (like the shout out Babe?). However, there is another woman in my life who is my heart - my daughter. And the woman who gave me my heart - my mom of course.

There is one more woman though.  The one who has been pushing me to follow my heart lately (and injecting estrogen into it on a daily basis) - my sister. The estrogen injections explain the video below.