6-30-85 . . . It's Sunday, so you can probably guess what I did today: I rode my bicycle. The temperature was over a hundred degrees [Fahrenheit] again, but I rose above it to set yet another 1985 record for gross average speed. This time, I covered the forty miles from the apartment to Colossal Cave and back in only three hours, thirty-seven minutes, for a gross average speed of 11.05 miles per hour. I had no idea, while on the bike, that I was making such rapid progress, but I should have. I didn't stop to pump up my tires; I paused at Saguaro National Monument [East] only to wash my face and refill my water bottle; and I stayed at the cave for only a few minutes. I didn't pedal much faster today, but I apparently stayed on the bike longer than usual. The wind was in my face on the way home from the Monument. And so now the year is half over. Twenty-six Sundays are behind me and twenty-six lie in front of me. I need to average 31.8 miles per week for the remaining weeks of the year in order to break my 1982 mileage record. The record is going to fall; I just know it. [I have no idea why I was recording gross average speed. Who cares how long I was stopped? What's important is how fast I went while I was pedaling.]
While riding, I realized that I am at my happiest while on the bike. It gives me a sense of freedom and lets me escape-if only temporarily-from the drudgery of reading and writing. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy reading and writing, or I wouldn't occupy myself with these activities, but there are times when one needs to get away from what one does most often. Riding my bike cleans my mind out (so to speak), makes me feel good about my physical condition, and gives me something toward which to strive. If there is one feature of my personality that stands out, that defines me, it is my desire to succeed—at whatever I set my mind to achieving. I just like testing myself, pushing myself, seeing if I can do things that other people don't, or can't, do. Come to think of it, I'm on a different wavelength altogether than most of my friends and acquaintances. Nobody whom I know enjoys riding as much as I do, and my friends do not take pride in setting and achieving goals. Most of them think that I'm utterly crazy for riding my bike in the summer heat; but I'm not (am I?).
Odds and ends: (1) As I walked to the mailbox this evening to send a letter to Mom and Jerry, I marvelled at the lights at the foot of the Santa Catalina Mountains. For some reason I hadn't noticed them before. What a beautiful sight! I've got to get out of the apartment more often at night.

