Especially on a Monday, my daily ride on my exercise bike feels like a representation of my life in general: working hard, pedaling through the pain and fatigue, sweating, trying to think about ANYTHING except what is happening, wishing I was somewhere else, pushing myself to beat the competition that exists only in my head, wanting to go back to the bed that is only 2′ away from my bike . . .
. . . only to find that I have gone nowhere fast.
