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"My bike rides stretched into expeditions. I didn’t time my rides, so there was no personal best to beat. The goal was something else, indefinable, proving so elusive—even to me—that I went out each day in search of it. The easy answer is that I lost myself in riding. Didn’t listen to music or podcasts or audio books, just the sound of my own breathing, the tires on the pavement, wind in the trees and cornstalks, the occasional motorist passing. Felt the way it did when the writing went well: outside of myself, beyond myself, finding that lost lane-end into heaven that Thomas Wolfe talked about."

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