D2R2 2017: The Night Before

The usual keyed up, anticipatory energy the night before the Big Event. It's always been like this for Dubstoevsky. In high school, the night before a big varsity hockey game, he would, in his sleep, put on his entire hockey uniform, including taping his shin pads in place. 

Some powerful subconscious mojo going on there. 

Things have changed since then. "Then" was 1977. That's a long time ago. But how does one measure time? How does one measure the continuum? 

The D2R2, for instance. Eight hours astride a bicycle might seem like a week, or like the blink of an eye.

Where are we when we wonder where we are? 

At some point, we move forward. That's what I intend to do tomorrow; move forward. Steadily. Inexorably. With Grit. With Joy. With Certainty. With Abandon.

Shad Rides carries on with a surfeit of determination and a modicum of total sadness. What the fuck is happening in this fucking country? Neo-Nazis in Charlottesville? White supremacists rallying on Boston Common? Are you kidding me? We have to fight back against Nazis in our OWN CITIES in 2017?? 

These are ugly days. Dangerous fucknatty times. 

And now it's the night before the D2R2, an event that is the epitome of Unity. Thousands of community volunteers and enthusiastic riders from far and wide (seriously - from the west coast, Canada, Europe, Worcester ... ) all forming a communal Whole ("the D2R2"). 

And within the "whole," anyone and everyone can be whoever they want to be, identify as whatever makes them feel whole. Everyone can ride at their own pace on the bike of their choosing along whatever course is suitable (60k 100k 160k 180k, the mysteryK). If you can handle it as a cyclist (and wear a helmet) then you're welcome to join the challenge.

So in times like these it feels right to engage in a communal and celebratory challenge, one in which everyone is supportive of one another, and respect is a matter of course.