Damned if I do and damned if I don't, so I did.

Once practical cycling becomes impractical, rides get harder to justify. In a civilization where physical exertion is almost entirely unnecessary, it becomes a luxury for those not shackled to it as part of a strenuous, physically destructive job.

When I worked more physically demanding jobs, I went at them like an athlete. I lifted weights, and walked and cycled for transportation so I could stand up to more of the strains of physical work. But most physical jobs aren't designed to preserve the body. People working in construction and other occupations that require physical exertion often have to operate in spaces that don't allow for careful alignment and judicious application of force.

I was fortunate enough to find steady employment in less rigorous occupations, though I have had to be frugal to maintain a comfortable standard of living on the income thus provided. Destructive labor or completely sedentary work might have paid a little better in money. I just couldn't hack the costs.

So here we are in November. If I get a ride, I have a better day than if I don't. Stealing riding time from other activities sets me apart from most other people. Sometimes I get a little crap for my scheduling priorities. That's the damned if I do part. But if I don't ride, I'm left to fashion a mood out of tiny, fragile bubbles of euphoria adrift on a vast sea of anhedonia.

If we get a ski season, cross-country skiing will provide its usual unmatched body and mind renewal. None of the dry land surrogates for Nordic skiing do as good a job as the real thing. So if the snow doesn't come, no matter what else I do to fill in the gaps in the exercise schedule, winter rides will still give me the most satisfaction. They connect to the greater whole of my practical riding and all the journeys I've taken in that way.