Motivation comes in all shapes, sizes

This was going to be a story about inner motivation, but seeing that I know very little about the subject, I don't see any reason why I should let that stop me.

Inner Motivation: motivation that is from the innards. The guts. Not one of my strong points.

Outer Motivation: motivation forced on you by Evil Acquaintances who can't understand why you don't have the exact amount of Inner Motivation as they, and they're dead set to set you straight, come hell or hell.

And that's exactly how I became a year-round motorcyclist.

A long time ago, despite misgivings from every fiber in my wife's petite little body, I bought a motorbike with all good intentions of making it my sole form of transportation.

With all bad intentions, an Evil Acquaintance proclaimed that come winter, I'd change my mind.

Change my mind.

A challenge. A dropped gauntlet. A chance to prove that I'm more than I give myself credit for ever thinking I might be despite feeling pert near positive that I'd never be more than I could be, or something like that, ya know?

That was way back in 2004, and I've been riding most days ever since.

Yes, when it's icy out I don't ride. When the bike's in the shop, I don't ride. When I'm sick in bed, fantasizing about my next-door neighbor's fairy biker step-godmother and how she'd bring me chicken soup, a beer, and rub my aching body with her strong, tattooed hands...

I don't ride.

But other than that, I'm out there in the rain, and snow, and fog, and sleet, and hot summer days (107F) and cold not-so-summer days (18F), and every time I get to where I'm going, the angels sing alleluia, and I get a little miffed about it because I would've thought they'd have a bit more faith in me.

Yes, Inner Motivation is mentally healthier for most people, but you've got to admit, sometimes a challenge can work wonders, too.

Which means I probably owe my Evil Acquaintance a debt of gratitude, a handshake, and a sincere thank you.

(Right. Not in THIS lifetime, bucko.)

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