Absolutely perfect weather has found us outside a lot; it's hard to justify doing anything else, especially when we watch the news and see what we're missing at home. We've been playing tennis, a much bigger deal for me than it is for Ken. He plays regularly whenever we are home and fits in well when we are in campgrounds where tennis courts are available. I am a mediocre player at best and have played very little in the last two years. I spent the first year trying in vain to get past an Achilles tendon injury and this year recovering from surgery. My heart fell when we went to the first tennis meet-up since all but one of the players were men. But most of them were not wonderful players either and more importantly they were kind and welcoming. Last time we were here the tennis courts were under repair, but now they are in great shape and I'm hoping that I will be able to keep playing with the support of an ankle brace and a knee brace. In a campground like this, people come and go and the culture of an activity can change. So far so good.
We met old friends from home who have moved here at the Mercado for lunch and a bike ride. Tucson prides itself on being a foodie city with an emphasis on authentic Mexican food. Since a little chile goes a long way for me, I studied the menu long and hard and was delighted to find that I had chosen well. The bike ride was on a paved trail. Tucson has many such trails along what look like river beds, although our friends have not seen water in them since they moved here. We rode and talked and caught up with each other's lives. Because they are locals now, we are hoping to take advantage of activities they have discovered and do more together.
Today we took the weekly campground bike ride, one of the activities that lured us back to Rincon. The Monday rides are generally twenty miles or less, a perfect distance for us and include a restorative stop in the middle. Sometimes these rides take advantage of the bike trails, but today we rode on the streets, some busy, some not so much. We generally don't enjoy street riding unless the shoulders are wide, because it's so easy for a driver not to notice you are there, but when you are in a group of about forty, there's no missing us. The drivers gave us friendly waves even though we tied up traffic at some intersections. Perhaps it made them feel good to see a herd of geezers that were still able to bike ride. It certainly makes me feel good that both of us are still able to enjoy the same athletic pursuits we always have.
But oh, my aching muscles!