No more centuries

I've only seen snippets of the movie Forrest Gump, but, at one point, Forrest is running across the country for no particular reason. He's gone hundreds of miles by then. He stops mid-run, realizes he doesn't want to do it anymore, turns around and goes home.

That moment happened for me this morning. I woke up in my tent to a beautiful California sunrise and I felt nothing. No yearning to hop on my bike and see the ocean. No pangs of loneliness that normally compel me to find someone to talk to. Not even a particular desire to eat anything. All I wanted was to lay on a couch and watch a movie with my family. It's time to go home.

In part, the insane pace of the last few days brought about this moment. 800 miles in 8 days doesn't leave much room for fun. Just riding, all day, every day. And only one break day since Vancouver is starting to show. I'm physically spent, like butter spread over too much bread (someone please understand that).

I know I could finish the last 700 miles to San Diego in 7 days without issue. But it would be more out of routine than any desire to see or experience anything. Not like I'd have time for either of those anyway if I went at that pace.

I'm about 180 miles north of San Francisco right now. Instead of the original plan for a two-day ride, I'm expanding it to a four days, my final four days on the road. I haven't decided yet if I'll fly home on Saturday or Monday, but I'll be finished biking on Saturday regardless.

I've accrued enough memories for a lifetime in the last 56 days. The great thing is I still have a lifetime ahead of me to gather more.

Peace out. I'll do another update either tonight or tomorrow morning. I'm happy :)

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