It’s believed –in Britain at least – that if the words “Rabbit rabbit rabbit” are the first words you speak on the first day of the month, you are ensured good luck during the rest of it.
Let’s just say I don’t live in Britain.
For on this first day of July, those were the exact words I blurted as I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to change so that me and the family could hit the road for a little bike ride. And it was indeed a good ride down the San Gabriel River Trail and into the local park where I parted ways with the family so that I could head down to the beach, my usual destination when I ride 20 miles. The trail was recently repaved and makes for a most excellent ride.
When I arrived at the beach, I sat and drank a bottle of water, took a moment to catch my breath, sent Ann a text to let her know I was heading back, and made my way onto the bike path again. So far, so good.
I was averaging about 16.5 MPH on the way back and felt great. I couldn’t recall the last time I had such speed consistently. As I approached the bridge that crosses over to the other side of the path, I saw a few oncoming riders and figured I had enough time to make my left turn in front of them and onto the bridge to safely cross.
That’s when I really realized I wasn’t British.