Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D.

I had a good training ride in scorching Texas heat this morning. I rode 68.95 miles. My pace wasn't all that great (16.10 miles per hour), but the idea was to build endurance for the Hotter 'n Hell Hundred in late August. I was in bright sunshine for nearly five hours, counting stops, and my face and arms show it. Only one dog molested me. Compare that to the 50 or so who molested me at the Grandview rally two weeks ago. I still have no explanation of the disparity. Today's ride was uneventful, which is a good thing when you're pedaling on moderately trafficked roads. I listened to music on my Zune, reflected on the Tour de France, reveled in the good play of the Texas Rangers the past two evenings, did a little philosophizing, and enjoyed the lush countryside. (The foliage hasn't turned brown yet because of all the rain we've had.) It's hard to explain why I like cycling so much. Maybe I'm addicted to it, but if so, then not all addictions are bad.