Cheating

For the past week, I have lived a romantic escapade.

I went to Chicago to watch this person participate in a triathlon:

This is what she looks like crossing the Finish Line.  Awesome, right?

After that, I stayed and visited for a week, riding this borrowed bike around the city:

Its frame is made of this:

For those of you who don't speak Bike-Speak (and I'm only a novice), a Carbon Fiber Frame = Really Light!  Literally, I could lift this bike with One Finger. Comfortably.

Riding this bike, I felt like I was flying. I cruised up and down California Avenue with no effort.  "If I had a Carbon Bike," I declared, "I might actually consider racing."  Riding this Bike made me realize how clunky the Silver Bullet is.  No offense, Silver Bullet: you are built to withstand a lot. You are a Touring Bike. You are my beloved Touring Bike, but my quick romance with this Carbon bike made me feel like I was cheating on my relatively heavy bike back home.

Also with great ease, I entered into a daily routine of breakfast, reading in the Patch's library, a walk around the neighborhood, lunch, a nap, conversing with friends, dinner, an evening bike ride, more time with friends, deep talk with my sister, reading, and bed.  An ideal vacation schedule.  No need for hurry but simply a respite from the go-go-go so many of us experience in our daily lives at home.  As usual, my departure was met with tempting invitations to stay longer. This is something I have often contemplated, knowing that if I actually moved my life from here to there, the busyness of daily life would inevitably follow, but even more compelling is the inherent knowledge that Minneapolis is where I am supposed to be.

I returned to Minneapolis yesterday and this was one of few unwelcome sightings of the skyline in my life.  Over drinks last night, I offered a good friend some character sketches from my beloved week in Chicago (yes, I included the bike).  The goodness of my past week and the mild sadness I feel upon returning to this state makes me feel as though I cheated on This Life, too.  It was a romantic escapade I wish hadn't ended.

But when my friend proposed to me that perhaps my Cosmic Path (Montessori-Speak) led me back to Chicago for good, I quickly acknowledged that, regardless my emotion, I feel that "Minneapolis is (my) destiny," as summed up by Friend.

Here I am. Am I happy today? Not really. Do I Love this city? Beyond a doubt.  If I were to leave in pursuit of a More Romantic Idea, I feel I would be cheating myself.  It's okay to be home.