Wheels and fortunes

Just about 10 days ago I was riding my bike home from work when I got run over, literally, by a car. The only damage to the bike was my front wheel, which got bent like a taco. I was determined to ride the North Shore Century just a few days later so my bike guys hooked me up with a temporary replacement wheel so I could do the ride. And do the ride I did, the metric 100 was 95% a good experience and the bike did well. Last week my new wheel came in and Dan laced up the Mavic and swapped it for the loaner wheel. What a difference! Like they say you get what you pay for and the difference in a $50 rim vs. a $150 rim is rather dramatic. Suffering through the NSC on the other wheel will prove to be a good training experience for the Apple Cider Century this weekend when I will ride 100 miles through the hills of south western Michigan and northern Indiana. I am feeling good about this ride. My 24 mile run this weekend was an excellent experience with virtually no pain, despite the difficulties I'd experienced in the week preceding my long run. I feared I might leave my marathon on the streets of Oak Park, but instead, I am infused with new confidence. I am sure that as much as biking crosses over to train for running, that running crosses over to build strength and endurance for the bike. I will put this theory to the test this weekend when I face the big hills between miles 60 and 80 of the century.

As I sat meditating before bed last night I rejoiced in all that I am thankful for. This was a conscious effort to drive the demons away, those work related worries, the angst of the work-a-day world. I celebrated my great fortune. Here I sat, comfortably, in baddha konasana (the cobbler's pose) with the soles of my feet pressed together, legs splayed open, and as I probed my body with my mental radar, I could find no pain, not even a hint of it. As I rolled the mala beads through my fingers and watched my breath, all that I am grateful for washed over me like a delicious cool crisp bed sheet. Each time the jagged edged thought attempted to rip through, I acknowledged the thought and watched it vanish away, all the while rolling the beads. Two trips around the mala and I slipped under the covers, snugged my eye pillow onto my face and listened to BBC on the radio while I descended into sleep. Awake again at 3:00 AM, unable to defend myself from the insomniacal thoughts, I emerged from my slumber and listened to my heart beat instead of my mind scream. Morning came too soon, but I defied my inclination to catch another 15 minutes, and faced the day. In my more lucid state standing in the kitchen drinking that first cup of coffee, looking out into the dark pre-dawn, I felt fortunate, once again. to be alive and savoring this excellent cup of joe.