I can see this eating up weeks of my time.
Here’s one you don’t see every day. Charleston, West Virginia. September 1, 1973. Steve Prefontaine and the legendary Jesse Owens….
Set. And. GO!
I can’t find anything wrong with this.
Cutting away the extra, it doesn’t seem to end, 2 steps forward 1 step back
at least most of the time. I keep seeing the gaps as they eventually get
refilled. The trimming will never end. I kind of like that it’s a work in
progress that doesn’t seem to have a finish line. My eagerness to have a
little less and a little more open space isn’t new, just fixing it is.
Points on the map leap-frog and pull yourself to the next location, isn’t that what a day is? You move from one point to another, plodding through the rougher spots to get to the smoother ones. Sometimes the rougher spots are better than smooth, other times I blackout until a rough point forces open my eyes, smiling, enjoying my time, quietly placing another pedal forward. Eagerness aside, quiet fatigue works against finding the right clothes to crawl onto the saddle at 35 degrees and 5:45 am. Subtle are the tricks we use to pull ourselves out the door in the small hours. It isn’t about the ride today but the ride down the calendar, the last lap dig, trying to draw on those efforts that are hidden in the legs and the head. Physical strength is there, that’s not the problem, it’s getting my head in there, focusing on the next moment and not letting everything else rule the scrolling pictures and thoughts running thru my head that make me slower, distracted. It’s a mantra, efficiency and focus…over and over. A quiet head is more efficient, it seems like the blood moves better on those days, the legs are more alive and focused, too.