I must hold my line true.
I must hold straighter than those around me
(who appear to be trying to kill me).
My bicycle and myself know that what counts on a ride
is not the rounds we turn, the pain of the hills,
nor the riders in our wake.
We know it is the time that counts.
We will ride on…
My bicycle is human, even as I, because it is my life.
I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage.
I will keep my bicycle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready.
We will become part of each other.
And though I ride through the middle the pack (in the shadow of death),
I will fear no evil, for I trust that everyone around me will hold their lines.
My bicycle and myself are the defenders of my health.
We are the masters of our terrain.
Surely goodness and joy will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house no more.