Herb Terns rides his bike through southern Saratoga County.

I can carry just about everything with me for a mile. Regrets from past decisions and worries about a shaky, uncertain future. Those things all stick with me in that first mile.

It doesn’t matter if my feet are pedaling a bike, gliding in ski boots, running, or on a trail ensconced in hiking boots – the mile rule still applies.

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The second mile comes and then the third. As the miles add, the mental weight of things subtract. I don’t know at which mile the letting go happens because those things get left behind and I don’t miss them as they go.

The concerns of the future become finding a place for a snack or the steepness of the next hill. Everything else is suspended until the miles stop.

Thoughts of the past become deeper, more long-term. You see........

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