Today I ventured out into the rain on my bicycle, which is, of course, a reckless and truly heroic thing to do. Now, it is quite possible that in my youth I rode my bike in the rain, but I can assure it was never on purpose. What's more, it's entirely possible I reached my majority without ever having ridden my bike in the rain, having been a cautious child in the habit of checking the weather report. I was the obedient kid who always wore his hat and mittens, the finicky one who was worried it would be too hot or too cold. In essence, I was Goldilocks.
As much as I'd like to think I'm a devil-may-care type, cycling in potentially hazardous conditions is out of character for me as I'm still cautious from having fallen off my bike two years ago, which resulted in almost a year's worth of physical therapy to fully recover. But rain is inevitable in Oregon and I realized today that I needed to decide what kind of person I was going to be in the world. That, at life's midpoint, there's no putting off being the person you want to be.
So I chose to be the fool who doesn't have the sense to come in out of the rain.
I was surprised by the cold, pin-prick sensation of the drops on my skin as well as the spurts of water that splash your face from the front wheel and your backside from the rear, leaving that triangle of dirt that makes it look like you've shit your pants. By the time I arrived home I was soaked to the skin.
But kind of proud.
Here's Gene Kelly digitally singin' and breakin' in the rain.