There are a lot of angry people on the road these days. I've biked in Boulder, Colorado for nearly 15 years with the thousands of other cyclists and on the stunning canyon roads wherever I can find a shoulder or bike lane. As a mom, it's hard to coordinate now with other people's schedules so I bike alone more often. My favorite ride has a couple of miles of remote dirt road to connect two canyons and the scenic peak to peak highway. I've never been nervous before but it tends to attract muscle trucks with men in them who are apparently offended by spandex and who have in the past thrown cans, drinks, spit, and yelled obscenities. I guess I've read too many headlines lately, but after a couple trucks dusted me, I got the heeby jeebies like when I've been hiking and felt like I was being hunted by a mountain lion. I started to wonder if anyone would find my body if one of these Yahoos wanted to get their Jollies off. A caveat: I know some people would say you shouldn't bike alone, or ever on the road, especially if you have kids. While I struggle with risk taking, I've cut out high altitude mountaineering, ice climbing, rock climbs with sparse protection, and driving fast. And I wear my seatbelt, and don't race lightning anymore. So I've matured I guess. The thing is, when I bike alone, I don't have to keep up with anyone, or wait for anyone, or worry about anyone's egos, or pull the kids in the chariot. I see bobcats, and elk, and birds, and blue skies, and floating clouds, and Listen to the river, and check out the geology in the rock cliffs and I feel light. Another benefit: I'm not my grumpy yelling short tempered self when I get home to my loving family. And I don't feel trapped anymore in an exhausting cycle of changing diapers and getting sick and arguing with a three year old because I had my own little adventure and I know my spirit for novelty is still alive. So I think the risk is worth it Since it purifies my heart and makes me a better person. The other thing solo riding does is it forces you to frame your outlook. When I was suffering my husband's accident then cancer followed by divorce, I couldn't be alone because I feared my own psyche. I only went to a negative place. I had panic attacks at night. Now I'm training myself to say "what if I do great? What if I feel great? What if my children don't die or get horribly maimed and they outlive me and never get a horrible disease, and my husband and I die holding hands in bed at the very same moment? Ok that's a little La Vie en Rose. Life feels long sometimes with a fatalistic bent, and when I'm happy and hopeful, I have a hard time not thinking I'm jinxing myself. So the heeby jeebies led to thoughts about that New York judge whose body was found in the Hudson River and what her last moments must have been like, and then about the Syrian mothers and children, and then about the woman from MHC I'd heard talk about her genial mutilation on NPR, and then the other NPR story about the older woman who endured many hours of suffering when she was attacked by a serial killer who wasn't supposed to be released from prison, and then I started thinking about the women and children, most precious to their families, who are defenseless targets in all wars and I then I thought of the little Syrian girl In the hospital calling for her momma and no one could tell her that her mother was gone. I started wondering why people are so cruel and remembered I've found most people to be generally disappointing ...this is the problem with riding alone. Once your mind wanders onto a bad jag, you have only yourself to force a change to the positive. So I started looking for signs. And as I finished the dirt road and came out onto the more traveled road, two people passed me wearing peace sign jerseys and one flashed me a peace sign and a smile. Then I had to pull over I was crying so hard I couldn't see. I guess I hadn't realized how much energy it takes to stay positive in a troubled world. Shortly after, I passed a sign in someone's yard that said "Love One Another" and while I struggled with stomaching the brutality in the world for the rest of the ride and it rankled me that I couldn't escape or control my own thoughts, every time I looked up, I saw another sign. A meadowlark singing. The smell of the first blossoms. More cyclists giving the wave or head nod of comradeship. A vintage plane flying overhead reminded me of my grandmothers, their pilot husbands, and all they'd endured with a "stiff upper lip". And ten small spindly trees decorated with Easter eggs. Then, I've never seen this before, but a blind man was biking with a guide in front of him on a motorbike he could hear and follow. As I neared my car, a man wobbled across the street to the homeless shelter and I wished him a good day and finished the ride with a smile in my heart. It's no revelation that pleasure is paired with pain, but I decided it's doing a disservice to the wonderful, generous, heroic loving lives lived not to honor them. "The best revenge is living a good life" right? Anne Frank said "how wonderful is it that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world". Even the smallest gesture of a smile puts us all in that camp, and in all the murkiness, that's where I want to be. Empowered to seek the best in the world. As I went to pick my kids up I remembered the day before when the 3 year old had a bad crash biking on a small hill and when I ran to get him, the brake on the stroller released and the stroller careened into a small ravine. It was a horrifying low parenting moment. I actually had to choose which child to save first as the 3 Year old had started off Down the hill again and apparently can't use his brakes on hills. Everyone survived with only scratches, but I replayed every moment and worst possible outcomes and layered guilt on my already guilt laden parenting shoulders. Through tears, my son said, "Mom it's ok to be afraid. But we can still be brave." A wise child. He still believes in the goodness and magic in the world and he believes that tomorrow will always be better. If I had one wish granted, it would be that my sons never have to grapple with the horror of discovering evil. But already, I struggle with explaining why thousands died when bombs were dropped when he hears it on the radio. Since I don't have one wish, my hope is that I can accept that loss of innocence as a natural self preservation lesson and focus on the positive for myself and my family, as my mother and grandmothers have done. When my mom had cancer, her friend gave her a cup that said "life's a bitch, and then you die" which didn't seem at all like an uplifting sentiment, but it made her laugh, and fight, and reject that dire summary. Now when my son gets discouraged, I try to help him see we can all overcome with a forward looking attitude. Being bombarded by the world's turmoil with news and social media can't be healthy for us. It's tempting to put our heads in the sand and crave moving off the grid to a mountain cabin. But after two trucks slowed and went way out of their way not to hit me, just as I was thinking of the woman my age who was killed in that spot last year in the Boulder Iron(wo)man, I decided there must be more good in the world than evil, and with an attitude of gratitude and my heart lifted, I can see and embrace it. When I returned to the bike shop where I had borrowed a helmet when I forgot mine, I bought a rear view mirror, more endurance powder for my drink bottle, and picked out three more long rides I'd never done where I was told the shoulder is wide and the drivers are generally friendly. Now it's just up to me to focus on the positive and keep on pushing.