I had something amazing happen this morning. I went out for a ride (which is wonderful and amazing and blissful all by itself) on my non-squishy bike to a fairly rocky trail. Chundery. I was expecting to get beat up (which was part of the plan seeing that the AZT is not a smooth trail) but the bike seemed to flow effortlessly up the climb. Up the rocks, over the roots. On the way down, I floated. The awkward little moves weren’t awkward, I threaded my way through little gaps without hitting my pedals. I hit corners at speeds that I haven’t reached in a long time.
For the first time since Christmas, I felt like a mountain biker again.
I’d had little glimpses of feeling normal again during spring break, but much of the riding was done with a twinge of fear. I wasn’t too worried about it as it happens to me after every big energy expenditure, but I was definitely starting to get antsy about my adrenal system coming back on-line. I like my adrenaline. It makes me go zoom. It makes me not afraid of rocks. It makes me happy.
Feeling that flow made me realize how much the ITI had cracked me.
My body cracked. My soul cracked. My mind cracked. Big time. For a while afterward, I was angry at all three. I was frustrated by being tired. I was frustrated with my inability to focus on the present moment. I fought my inability to regain a grip on the concept of passing time.
And then at some point in time, sitting in Scott’s front yard, basking in the sun, I stopped cursing my body for what it couldn’t do and started to thank it for all the things that it could do. And that made all the difference. I found myself fully reengaging in life, in the present moment. Plugging back into the healing powers of the Universe and Life. Plugging into the healing powers of the magic of the desert. Approaching each day and each ride with gratitude for what my brain and body could do at that specific moment. The body is an amazing thing.
Cracks always heal. I’m excited to ride again.