Push Push Push

On the work you do before anyone notices.

There are three big hills between my grandson’s house and mine.

With two trips a day, there and back, that’s six climbs on the bike.

I’m not getting any younger.

And my grandson’s definitely getting heavier.

Yesterday we were grinding up hill number six.

I was puffing.

He was laughing.

We were halfway through one of our silly games when a man on the footpath held out his hand.

Half hello.

Half stop.

He had a little boy beside him.

We slowed.

They slowed.

“I’ve seen your grandad initiative online,” he said.

“Fantastic. Keep it up.”

Then we both rolled on.

The whole exchange lasted maybe ten seconds.

By the time I reached the top of the hill, I found myself smiling.

When I write these newsletters, I still wonder sometimes if anyone is listening.

I probably always will.

But somewhere along the way, something has changed.

I used to need encouragement so I could keep going.

Now I’ve discovered the joy is ‘the pushing.’

So I kept pedalling.