My teenage son is an up and coming cyclist with a dream of winning the Tour de France.  He is entered in a 26 mile race this weekend made of five laps on a course which is described as hilly with lots of twists and turns.  So this afternoon I took him out to ride the course to get familiar with it and to time his laps.

The start of the race is at a remote park on the edge of a lake.  We were the only ones in the parking area, save for a lone pickup truck with a boat trailer – the owners of which were probably happily wiling away the beautiful sunny day out on the lake somewhere.

Lap 1 – As my son took off, I started the stop watch on my cell phone.  Even though the sun was out, there was still a distinct chill in the air so I decided to sit in the car and wait as he made his rounds.  It was then that I realized I had not brought along anything “to do.”  I had inadvertently left my bag, packed with books and magazines, at home.

The battery on my car has been acting up, so I didn’t want to turn on the car radio for fear of running the battery down in a remote area with no one around to provide a jump.  Additionally, my cell phone was down to just one bar on the battery – I needed what was left to keep the stop watch running – so I couldn’t use my phone to check email or surf the web.

I began fussing with myself for not remembering to bring something “to do.”  Look how much time I was wasting – I could be “doing” something.  I grabbed a handful of maps from the door pocket to leaf through.  The road maps of Denver and Dallas brought back fond memories of road trips with my daughter.  I opened up the Oklahoma map and traced the 2010 Oklahoma FreeWheel route.

Lap 2 – Opened the console between the front seats, organized the CDs and miscellaneous items found there and threw away some trash in the park dumpster.  Next I checked the glove compartment for something “to do.”

Lap 3 – Found two cycling catalogues in the back seat that my son had picked up at the bike shop on the way out of town.  Leafed through the pages and looked at all the biking accessories for really serious cyclists.

Lap 4 – Realized how incredibly quiet it was.  The park is far removed from any traffic – the only noises were birds chirping and the sound the breeze makes as it blows through the still clinging dried up leaves on the trees.  It occurred to me that maybe I didn’t need “to do” anything other than be still and observe what was going on around me.

Lap 5 – Got out of the car and walked up a small hill to get a better view of the road.  The air was warming up and bugs were beginning to buzz around.  I breathed in the warm spring air, and then watched with pride as my cyclist came sprinting down the road and crossed over what will be the finish line on Saturday.

What do you do when there’s nothing to do?  Why not give nothing a try.