Two wrongs don't make a right, but they make a good excuse. (Thomas Szasz)

I tried to keep to our regular routine. And it worked for a while. Nothing seemed to be going right. Hurricanes tearing up places I love. Sick friends. It had done a number on my mood. I was counting on the comforting routine of four days a week out pedaling my bicycle to get me out of the doldrums.

Tuesday morning we set off for our usual ride on the Rickenbacker Causeway, Virginia Key, and Key Biscayne. Al had his speed zones and intervals and what all. I do my miles, working on my pedal stroke and cadence. But with every mile my mood darkened. My mind kept focusing on my sore back and wooden legs rather than the lovely day and scenery.

Al was waiting for me on Virginia Key. I rolled up to him and just announced, "I'm not having any fun; I'm going home." And I pedaled away.

For the first mile I argued with myself to get with the program. Go back. Tell Al I was a moron. Finish the ride.

But I didn't. I kept pedaling toward the mainland. And I noticed that my mood was getting lighter! My speed going down the bridge was nearly a personal best. Yeah!

I rode home, but by a rambling route that took me past a few of my favorite pieces of public art, a couple of fountains, and (of course) the best garden in the area.

It was silly and childish to need an excuse to use my training day for a fun ramble. I should, but don't, feel guilty. (I only rode 18.5 miles for goodness sake!)

I had fun.