Breaking Through

The sun is scarce, the wind blustery and cold, and the rain. UGH! The RAIN! I've found my spirits, lately, are beginning to fall in line with this abysmal Spring season. This week has been particularly difficult. I hadn't run in at least 6 days, coming up with an excuse to stay in, each time even the slightest hint of motivation would strike. It's too cold. It's raining. I've been on my feet for 12 hours. My nagging achiles pain. No excuse was too small.

After school today, I came home and crashed out for a good two hours. It was the first nap I had taken in about three weeks or so (pretty good for a siesta-lover like myself). After shaking off the after-effects of a two-hour nap, I actually felt worse than I had before! Cranky, tired, hungry, achy (stupid dodge ball league). Finally, my body (and mind) had had enough.

Without much thought or effort, I found myself geared up and in the saddle, heading out for a ride. "Just a short one," I told myself. I was amazed at the natural reaction of my body. It just knew that it was time to get out and shred some long-dormant muscle tissue, and add a healthy dose of burning to my lungs and heart.

Mile one was tough, but soon I settled in and enjoyed (as much as one CAN enjoy) the hilly country roads of GR Township. Approaching the turn off for a my 15 mile route, the legs felt great, the heart beat strongly, smiling, urging me on. I motored past the turn-off, and decided to go for 17.

Yet again, at the turn, my body wanted more. More air, more burning, more activity, more release. I cruised on past my cut-off, stretching into a full sprint for about a hundred yards or so. A smile crept across my frothing, spit-blowing lips, and I eased back into a comfortable pace, my legs still screaming from the effort.

Mile after mile clicked past. Then, finally, as I neared the home stretch, I couldn't help but look down in appreciation at my willing and perfectly able steed. How patiently she hung in the garage, biding her time, whispering, waiting. As I coasted into the driveway, I broke into a song, ("Someday, I'll be livin' in a big ol' city...") my head clearer, my heart lighter, my mood lifted.

I dismounted and hoisted my ride up to the rafters, carefully hooking each wheel on the attic mounts. I smiled. Thanks for the break-through, ol' girl! "I'll see ya soon. I'll see ya real soon."