I am not a chicken
I have a hate-hate relationship with my trainer.
I love riding my bike. And if I am ever fit, it is only because I love riding my bike. It is not because I am disciplined or motivated. It is because I love the sheer joy of propelling myself through this world.
I will put my head down and suffer like a beast on the open roads or trails. The wind in my face inspires me (and wipes away the yak coming out of my mouth). The passing world moves me forward when my legs want to stop. The sounds of my tires crunching leaves and grit pulls me up hills.
But sit my ass on a trainer and I am all wuss and no go.
So what in the world was I doing pedaling like a fiend on it last night? I have no idea. But when you are inspired, you don't question it. You just hop on, pedal and breathe.
Still, that finishing song of "tweet, tweet, tweet" was the sweetest sound I heard all night.