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Tonight was one of this evenings that began with a song not just in my heart, but with music all around me.  West Chicagoland was sunny, the weather warm enough to energize me in that special way that only the anticipation of riding my mountain bike can provide.  I had the office to myself.  Pump It Up with Elvis Costello came up on my playlist, the volume insteadly adjusted in the upward direction.  I danced out of the office and out to my car.

This over 50 dad is one excellent dancer, by the way.  Believe me.  I am.  I would never fib about that.  Besides, I have been told so more than once.. and very recently.

Bike loaded on my car, I rocked all the way to the trailhead.  Elvis Costello gave way to Earth Wind and Fire who gave way to Chickenfoot.  I kept dancing, my mood soaring as I pulled into the trail parking lot and unloaded my bike.

The ride was unfreaking believable, 58 degrees at first pedal turn.  My friends, Greg and Estaban, were there.  I parked next to their cars, met them 2 minutes in.  Before starting the ride, I had pumped up the rear shock and used the auto adjust valve to dial it in.  My bike was responding, the handling just right, the ride fast.  The ride was 90 minutes of pure bliss.  Greg and Esteban are faster than I am, eventually rode ahead of me.  When I finally called it an evening and reached the parking lot, they were already gone.

I opened up my car, shed my hydration pack, gloves and helmet, threw on my hat, grabbed the key to unlock my bike rack, loaded my bike up.

And I began to dance.  A car pulled up with loud music playing, four high school girls inside.  They yelled out the car windows.

“Show us your moves!”

Who can resist that?  I had to dance for them.

There were no dollar bills involved.

I returned to the side of my car to shed my bike shoes and change into my flip flops.

“Hey mister, you’re really good.  Will you dance with me for my Snap Chat video?”

Of course.

Let’s hope that video doesn’t go viral.