Earlier this past week Dave and I had been making plans for a mountain bike ride Sunday morning...I’d already spent endless blissful hours in the saddle the previous week. Meditative, quality time bonding with the trails, falling asleep just about every night grinning while I’d been embracing the fall riding --- truly optimus prime conditions! Fueled by Hammer Espresso gel the blissful realities of middle chain ring climbing, phlegm-eradicating, lung-ballooning, elevation gains all leading up to the apex, of yes, I am definitely spinning in 27th gear right now, a reminder to self --- keep your hands on the handlebars and wait to wipe the tears from your watery eyes until there are no trees scuffing the shoulders of your jersey...
Well, Friday evening arrived with menacing clouds, and petrichor mixed with a chill from the williwaws. By Saturday morning I awoke to the sounds of not a pitter-patter but what sounded as though someone with a sadistic sense of humor was spraying my house with a diesel powered 100,000 psi power-washer (perhaps a slight exaggeration). In spite of my disappointment knowing that I wouldn’t be riding I did find some resolve and even satisfaction in personifying the trails thinking that they would be singing the joys of nourishment and renewal all in preparation for Sunday’s splendid ride...
Sunday 6:02am, 39 degrees. A fusion of drizzle and downpour, the ride would be a trail destroying mudfest. Dave calls at 8am, “Wanna go for a run?” My response without hesitation, “Yep, good idea.” “How about we head out to Phil’s? “Perfect.” “Pick you up at 9?” “Sounds good, see you then.”
Two hours later I arrive back at my house. And although we spoke about the joys of mountain, road and cyclocross riding and training; never was there a complaint uttered about how disappointed we were to not be on our trusty steeds plummeting down the trails. Today was an uplifting reminder of why I run ---simple, primordial, graceful.
See you on the trails-- Rob
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