I stared at the screen for a while before I started to type this Post. 

It is a puzzling topic. 

How do I approach it? 

Flats. 

They are perplexing. 

Perplexing how they happen. 

Perplexing when they happen. 

Perplexing where they happen. 

Perplexing how often they happen. 

I am coming off two. 

Two in two days. 

Two on two different bikes. 

They seem to work that way. 

None, then many. 

I had a good, solid four months without one. 

I get a kick out of how I react to them. 

I make a turn and think, ‘That felt weird.’ 

Seconds later, I know I have one. 

I go through the ‘Five Stages of Grief.’ 

…But in thirty seconds. 

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. 

I squeeze the tire like five times, expecting on the fifth squeeze that I had it all wrong, but in fact, the tire is filled and tight. 

I rarely get a front flat. 

It seems to be my rear tire that gets the most. 

There is that expression about things coming in threes. 

I think the phrase must have its origins in cycling. 

But I am not superstitious. 

I am not going to cave into that. 

It is a little too pessimistic for me. 

I like to stay positive. 

Perhaps my two flats were actually numbers two and three. 

Number one was last season, in the late fall. 

I am not waiting for my third. 

I am not changing anything. 

Still going the distance. 

Riding remote. 

But with, and I know you know it, that little? 

That little extra, hmm, it is not caution, not, hmm, give me a second. 

You know? 

I do not think there is a word for it. 

A word for how you ride on day three of having two back-to-back flats. 

How about an example? 

You know how sometimes you hit a stone and it loudly pops away? 

You do not pay attention to it any other time. 

But after a couple of flats, you really hear it. 

Or you think? 

‘I got those last two flats going east, today I will ride north.’ 

I am grateful for the next few rides when I return home without one. 

This all leaves after the next ride or two. 

Things go back to ‘normal,’ and I forget about it. 

Besides, those last two flats were numbers two and three. 

I am good for the next few months. 

‘The Five Stages of Grief in Thirty Seconds’ 

Insert spinning head emoji here. 

‘There is another way to ride.’