When I write it's like I get a greater sense of who I am

When I write it's like I get a greater sense of who I am -Gift of Gab

I am a high stress, get things done, go go go, type A woman. I worry and dwell. I am an undiagnosed hypochondriac. My days are fairly consistent: work, then gym, then either meet up with friends, or entertain my creative endeavors. The daily grind fuels my stress, dwelling and worries, the gym is somewhat of a respite and time spent with friends serves as a much needed forum for venting, but rarely leads to any immediate epiphanies. There is one thing, though, that does not necessarily diminish the whirlwind of uncertainty and confusion, rather, makes it all seem okay.

BMX Sunday, as I continuously refer, is the one day of the week that I yearn for. A day that involves nothing more than stepping on the pedals of my little 20" BMX and rolling out through the neighborhood. The day serves a multitude of purposes. It is a day to wake up without an alarm, put on sneakers instead of four inch heels and drink a beer instead of a glass of wine.

I can spend hours on my bike riding all over Austin and not feel like any time has passed. My bike makes me work, but it pays back with euphoric mind easing endorphins. Everything that seems like a big deal during the week is suddenly okay, no conflict exists.

On BMX Sunday, the city exudes a solace that surrounds me. I view it from a different perspective, in particular, the quiet serenity offered by the East side. This is where most of my time is spent, riding alongside the rail road tracks and graffiti-written walls.

The luxuries that Austin offers vary for everyone. Mine happens to be a day of free therapy, minus the cost of a few tacos and a Stella Artois. I invite you to take a moment to experience BMX Sunday, and see this city from a perspective not smeared with residue of the daily grind.

Meg Hulse