I turned the bike over and what was stuck to the bottom was enough to make me retch. It was Guantanamo Bay material. Show this substance to someone, they tell you what you want to know. So, I cleaned it. And then I tried to clean myself.
Yesterday was my first day “of the season” here in New Mexico. Excited to be here to say the least. The town is alive, too alive actually, as Memorial Day visitors swamp little old Santa Fe. I got out for a quick hike. I say quick because I basically ran the entire route. I told myself not to because I knew the knee would not be happy, but I simply could not contain myself.(not like this was a huge hike by any means) Cardio wise, for whatever reason, I can get my heart to a specific level and it just hangs there on the fine line of “this is fun,” or “why am I doing this to myself.”
June is always hot and windy, and this week is no exception. On this morning’s ride I was able to catch the sunrise over the Sangres, and as soon as the sun peaked the wind kicked in. My legs were sore from the short run, but once the first five miles were under my belt the legs started to find their happy place.
I think anyone who exercises a lot knows what I mean when I say I feel pressure if I’m not doing something. I could have slept in, but waking up to see morning light hitting high clouds is enough to kickstart this pressure. Do more. See more. I always feel better for getting out. And now I come home to my home away from home and suck down my quadruple espresso. There is always a payoff.
Get out there.
Do something, do more, try harder … That quote I have written in my arm till the end of time always keep me going when I’m feeling weak. I wrote it for a different reason but I found out it helps in many other situations. Repeat it like a mantra and you’ll keep going.
And trying can be a quiet, solitary experience where doing nothing can be something. Something big.