Sunday afternoon, I sat on our love seat and announced to Vicky that I was happy.
I just finished my first 40-mile ride. I had a great shower and was wearing comfortable clothes. Vicky had set out some breakfast and we'd eaten it watching a little TV. She massaged my weary muscles. And we'd both pet our little menagerie, especially our newest member, the little 12-week old: Shipoopi.
It doesn't take much and, yet, things have to work out perfectly.
If my bike had broke down or if the water in the shower had been too cold or if my clothes reminded me how fat I am by being too tight or if there wasn't any breakfast or if she hadn't given me a massage or if there wasn't anything good on TV or if our pets weren't so sweet... even if you take that one item, if Shipoopi wasn't such a love-muffin, the perfection of that morning would have been popped like a soap bubble.
So, it's important to me to understand how much my happiness relies on so many others. Thousands of people - maybe more. The other riders on the trail. The people who keep the water running and the power on. The makers of my clothes. My wife - and everyone who made her as wonderful as she is. Those who bred and raised our pets before we had them. Even, though I hate to say it: TV execs. Sometimes, though rarely, their influence comes together to make me happy.
I'm not a big fan of thanking an imaginary God when it is so important to thank real people.
Thanks for the Sunday, folks.