“Somewhere between work, and being a father, and a soccer coach, and a husband, and the guy in charge of getting the truck’s clutch replaced and chainsawing the willow that fell last week, and being funny and friendly at Friday happy hours, I lost my way as a cyclist,” I wrote in the first of this two-year series of columns. In the last, I wrote that “any such effort to quantify the extent to which I am a cyclist is meaningless. We are or are not.” A lot happened in between.

I A Stroke of Fate   II Pretty Ugly   III Do Not Go Gentle   IV The Road I Didn’t Know   V Impossible   VI The Escape   VII What It’s Like   VIII How to Not Ride   IX In the Fog   X Not Riding It Right   XI You Ride Like You    XII The Thing We Carry   XIII Lucky Day   XIV The Long Way    XV Exactly the Right Moment
XVI Just Another Year   XVII Surprises of the Rises   XVIII Rooted   XIX Besotted   XX Easy Does It
  XXI Remember the Time   XXII It All Becomes Us

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