Risky Business

images riskAt 4:00 AM, I woke up to the sound of heavy rain hitting the roof.  It was a raging downpour. I sat up for a moment and said to my husband, “It’s raining hard.” The alarm was set to go off at 4:30 so we could make it downtown for Ride Cincinnati

a bike ride to raise funds for Breast Cancer Research. We had plans to ride 63 miles, but didn’t want to ride in the rain.

 

The next time that I woke up was 7:00 AM. I couldn’t figure out how I had slept in. I discovered that my husband had turned off the alarm when he heard me say that it was raining. He had assumed that it would rain all morning and he didn’t want to take a chance in the ride. I was willing to take that risk, but it was too late for that.

 

Disappointed in the turn of events, I suggested that we go out for our own ride. I checked the weather for the morning and the forecast predicted that there was a 0% chance of rain, continuing into the afternoon. When we left the house, the sun was actually out.  That didn’t last long as we biked further and further out.  I trusted the forecast, so we continued on our ride until I began to feel the sprinkles on my helmet.  “It will pass,” I said, trying to convince myself.  It didn’t pass— the sprinkles turned into a steady rain.

 

At first, it really didn’t bother me until the steady rain turned into a much heavier, cold rain. We stopped under a bridge and waited, hoping that the rain would let up.  It didn’t. Finally, we decided to just ride the two miles to the restaurant and eat lunch.  As soon as we got there, the rain stopped and the sun came out.  With my clothes dried and my stomach full, I felt much, much better.

 

The moment we got on our bikes after lunch, the sun went in.  We were 10 minutes into our ride back home when it began to rain again.  Yes, even with a 0% chance, the rain became steady, miserable and cold. I was unhappy, soaked to the skin and freezing cold. And then it happened.

 

My husband asked me to look at his tire because it felt “strange” to him.  I said that I was sure it was nothing— wishful thinking.  He stopped and assessed his bike tire, which was flat.  On cue, the sky opened up with a torrential downpour.  I accepted the fact that there was nowhere to take cover on the bike trail. There I was, trying to read him instructions on my phone while attempting to keep the device dry in the pouring-down rain. My hands were numb from the cold and my clothing was soaked. Fun was not being had by either one of us.

 

Now, here’s the irony of the whole situation: I found out that it never rained during the morning event. If we had taken part in this, we would have enjoyed beautiful weather. However, we made our decision because we didn’t want to take the risk.

 

Risk.  Everyday, you make decisions while weighing your risks buy generic propecia.  Often, this measure of risk holds you back from experiences that you would enjoy and benefit from in life. Sometimes, the risk appears much bigger in your head than it is in reality.

I’m not saying to ignore the risk, but be sure to take some chances. Don’t allow yourself to miss out on life.

Risky Business

images riskAt 4:00 AM, I woke up to the sound of heavy rain hitting the roof.  It was a raging downpour. I sat up for a moment and said to my husband, “It’s raining hard.” The alarm was set to go off at 4:30 so we could make it downtown for Ride Cincinnati

a bike ride to raise funds for Breast Cancer Research. We had plans to ride 63 miles, but didn’t want to ride in the rain.

 

The next time that I woke up was 7:00 AM. I couldn’t figure out how I had slept in. I discovered that my husband had turned off the alarm when he heard me say that it was raining. He had assumed that it would rain all morning and he didn’t want to take a chance in the ride. I was willing to take that risk, but it was too late for that.

 

Disappointed in the turn of events, I suggested that we go out for our own ride. I checked the weather for the morning and the forecast predicted that there was a 0% chance of rain, continuing into the afternoon. When we left the house, the sun was actually out.  That didn’t last long as we biked further and further out.  I trusted the forecast, so we continued on our ride until I began to feel the sprinkles on my helmet.  “It will pass,” I said, trying to convince myself.  It didn’t pass— the sprinkles turned into a steady rain.

 

At first, it really didn’t bother me until the steady rain turned into a much heavier, cold rain. We stopped under a bridge and waited, hoping that the rain would let up.  It didn’t. Finally, we decided to just ride the two miles to the restaurant and eat lunch.  As soon as we got there, the rain stopped and the sun came out.  With my clothes dried and my stomach full, I felt much, much better.

 

The moment we got on our bikes after lunch, the sun went in.  We were 10 minutes into our ride back home when it began to rain again.  Yes, even with a 0% chance, the rain became steady, miserable and cold. I was unhappy, soaked to the skin and freezing cold. And then it happened.

 

My husband asked me to look at his tire because it felt “strange” to him.  I said that I was sure it was nothing— wishful thinking.  He stopped and assessed his bike tire, which was flat.  On cue, the sky opened up with a torrential downpour.  I accepted the fact that there was nowhere to take cover on the bike trail. There I was, trying to read him instructions on my phone while attempting to keep the device dry in the pouring-down rain. My hands were numb from the cold and my clothing was soaked. Fun was not being had by either one of us.

 

Now, here’s the irony of the whole situation: I found out that it never rained during the morning event. If we had taken part in this, we would have enjoyed beautiful weather. However, we made our decision because we didn’t want to take the risk.

 

Risk.  Everyday, you make decisions while weighing your risks buy generic propecia.  Often, this measure of risk holds you back from experiences that you would enjoy and benefit from in life. Sometimes, the risk appears much bigger in your head than it is in reality.

I’m not saying to ignore the risk, but be sure to take some chances. Don’t allow yourself to miss out on life.