In a Word: Rejuvenation.

In a Question: Have you pushed your limits lately . . . ?

In a Sentence: They elevate possibility while offering reminders that the path to such a destination is reached through the continuity and incremental progress of daily practice.

I just returned from an ElliptiGO bike ride—my first in a while. What used to be an almost daily dose of body and spirit medicine fell casualty to relocation, the cold weather and icy roads of a couple months back, temporary living, and general disorientation from any semblance of routine. It was nice being back on the road.

Other factors inhibiting my bike riding have been the roads themselves and those with which they must be shared. No longer in the land of dedicated bike paths and quiet residential streets, I find myself exposed on hilly, twisty roads with no shoulders and blind turns, akin to those I experienced along portions of my Canada to Mexico ride a few years back. Mirrors are of no benefit. You just have to trust that those in vehicles coming from behind (and those coming at you) are paying attention. Doing so requires considerable trust.

I find drivers in these parts too eager to exceed the speed limit, too seldom courteous, and too often on the phone. Perhaps that describes most places. It would be easy to narrow my concern to texting teenagers lacking in experience and judgment, but that would be unfair. Most distracted drivers I stare down are adults on the phone—adults who through their modeling are giving kids the green light to take the wheel while texting and talking. If you are such an adult, I hope you take these few sentences personally. Someday, you may very well kill and maim someone for a phone call or LOL text of no consequence. It isn’t worth it and such behavior—especially by adults—represents the utmost in reckless self-centeredness.

That said, and conditions such as they are in these parts, I’ve never witnessed a more active cycling community, especially if measured per capita. In late afternoon and early evening, and all day on weekends, cyclists string along highly trafficked routes and dirt road sanctuaries like ants seeking a trail home. Today, I rejoined the colony.

The ride itself wasn’t worthy of detailed commentary. In overview, it was a beautiful, quiet spring morning. The route I chose was scenic, relatively safe, and of moderate difficulty (or maybe a little more than moderate given my diminished conditioning, which is what made the experience so memorable and special).

The summary readout on my heart rate monitor suggested I spiked above the maximum heart rate for my age, based on conventional formulas for determining such. My average heart rate for the entire ride exceeded that of any ride I recall, to include all 40 or so days when riding from Canada to the Mexican border.

Dismounting the bike at home and still struggling to recover from the last hill, the best I can do is set the kickstand and take a seat on the porch steps. With wobbly legs and laboring lungs, I retreat inside for a yoga session—some time to stretch already limber muscles, while lowering heart rate and quieting the mind.

An hour later I’m rejuvenated, energized, and feeling more connected physically, mentally, and emotionally than I have in some time. That’s what made it such a nice ride.

Repeatedly, experience tells me that the combination of physical activity and Nature can put much of life into perspective. Routinely, I’m reminded that spiking the heart rate, challenging the mind, and embracing celebration add energy to life and the talents we have available to offer. Time and again, spent thighs, aching muscles, and burning lungs, reengage gratitude and point to possibility. Again and again, pushing the limits awakens body, mind, and spirit.

Rather than routine, however, pushing the limits must be occasional. Such days and events establish benchmarks and confirmation of direction. They elevate possibility while offering reminders that the path to such a destination is reached through the continuity and incremental progress of daily practice.

Willie, our Maine Coon cat, just sprinted the length of the house sounding like a pounding thoroughbred, then slammed on the brakes at the kitchen, ricocheted off an ajar basement door and bounded into the darkness of the basement below. Ten seconds later he flies up the steps, reverse-ricochets off the door, streaks back to my office, and in a flying leap lands atop a filing cabinet that acts as his window-side perch. I guess he’s having one of those days too!

How about you? Have you pushed your limits lately—those of mind, body, and spirit? Have you used these moments to reconsider direction and re-calibrate the daily practices that will get you there? Maybe this is the week. Make it a good one!