I didn't know whether I should call this thread, "Substance" or, "Plastic." So I went for, "Plastic substance."
neeway, in this "plastic" society of ours, everything is for show. Artificial flavor. Artificial color. Artificial breasts (no extra milk there, sorry, kid!) Television ("so real you'd swear you were there.") False this, fake that. What's real anymore?
Now. As a cyclist, my "art" pulls something real out of me. Something deep inside that becomes part of everything else around me that's real. The more I ride, the more I am disappointed at fake things, like plastic flowers or plastic fruit.
Cycling has put "substance" back into my life. If I need to get up that hill, I have to really put myself into it. No wimpy pressing on the gas pedal. I gotta sweat!