That weekend I planned to ride Highway 41 North from Dalton to the Tennessee/Georgia border, which was a 51 mile roundtrip. I planned to leave early in the morning, before the sun climbed high enough to scorch me. I had ridden as far North as Tunnel Hill the day before at noon to partially test the terrain. That night I mapped out the route using satellite mapping on my training log online program. When I pulled on my clothes for the trip to the track that morning, I discovered my front tire was flat. I just pumped it up to make it to the park and back. That night, I would have to patch the tire and rest... the third of the 3 R's of summer.
Psalms 116:7-8 Return unto your rest, O my soul; for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you. For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.
Rest is important in so many ways. But, sometimes I'm not sure if I got more rest from the restin'... the runnin'... or the ridin'. I couldn't really rest sitting still, and usually opted for more strenuous rest. I'm sure if I had been a ditch-digger by trade, I might have valued restin' more. I had thought about that when I passed a guy in a hole with a drill in his hands and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, wearing a wife-beater t-shirt in the blazing sun the day before. There I was on my bike sweatin' for fun, while he dug holes in the ground.