It all started out with getting up late. I can't put this in the proper amount of detail right now. Tara and I are parting ways, and loading my bicycle and kissing her goodbye was... difficult.
The bicycle was overloaded, so I cussed and whined about it. The moment was emotional with a nod to anxiety. I cussed and figured out where to stuff extra stuff that I didn't feel like bringing. The extra stuff will accompany me to Kennett Square, but no further. Once there I will re-pack and leave some stuff behind at my parents house, which is a substantial stashing ground for me and also for my sister.
I pulled away, and literally did not look back. Official goodbyes are one of the surreal parts in life. You can glance backward, but you've seen what's there. It's ok. I'll see a new version of all of it again.
The bicycle was heavy, but my spirits were high. I followed some fairly reasonable Google Maps bicycle direction printouts. I'm not in top form, and the bicycle was heavy. Hills became a burden later in the ride. I almost walked at one point.
I made it to Kennett just after mile 47, and managed to make it to bed without drinking. That wasn't the plan. I fully intended to do it up like usual, but my body didn't want it. My mind wanted booze with a lazy curiosity, but I let the moment pass.