Simple

So I did my races. Saturday at the State Championships I dropped out, as I was having issues with my shifters and I was way too slow. Sunday I did two races, getting 5th and 11th. Respectable.

After a bit of confusion, as in the promoter had to change the race venue for Saturday, things went well. Sunday the race was in a park over by the airport, and it was a good course for me. Of course, something had to go wrong, and when I was putting an arm warmer on I punched myself in the mouth, arriving at the the line with a very bloody mouth and lip. But it's almost healed.

What struck me the most wasn't the racing, or the course, but the other people in the park. There was a family all bundled up with their little kids playing on the playground, and another family having a barbeque and riding their bikes around the park. I liked it.

It reminded me of when I was a kid and my parents would take us to the pool or the state park with a beach on a lake. It was cheap, and we could all hang out together. Also like when we'd sit on our dock at our house in the Adirondacks. We'd swim, fish, or just pass time. Simple, and it seems like such a world away.

I'm just old enough to remember the Adirondacks as a time capsule of the 50's. It was simpler up there, and slower. Now it feels different. It was an event to go up there, and due to speed limits and slow, twisty roads, it took forever. Now it's so accessible, it doesn't quite have that special feeling. Or it didn't, but since I'm 2000 miles away, it probably will next time I get there.

So I miss some of the simpler moments of my life, like watching freight trains go by along the Mohawk River, or eagerly anticipating the next issue of whatever train or car magazine I had a subscription to at the time. And maybe that's part of the problem with the present. We feel guilty for just watching a day go by, like we must be wasting it, when in reality we're doing what we should, enjoying it.