So at the end of chapter one in Traveling at the Speed of Bike I say I make a decision that changes my life. Take a listen to this excerpt from Chapter Two. (This photo is of the girl in the pink jacket in the story.)
It’s a metaphor. We all have them. That “something” that went in the attic or the basement or the shed because duty or life called in some way that made it temporarily necessary. But years passed. And that little symbol of who we were or who we aspired to be gathered dust in a corner.
Perhaps it is a set of skis or golf clubs or canoe for you. Perhaps it is a fishing rod or baseball bat or dance shoes. Perhaps it is a set of chef’s knives or paint brushes or drum sticks. There is a scene in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty movie that involves a skateboard and a road in Iceland. That’s the feeling, folks, for which we’re going here. Just watch that scene, and remember how your metaphoric skateboard, your “bike in the attic,” used to feel, or how you hoped it would. And then maybe take that thing out from the attic or garage or basement, and get on with it.