Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I went to bed last night with the intention of getting up early for a ride with a friend. I'm not a morning person any longer, haven't been for several years now. When the kids were younger, I had to be a morning person to make sure they got up, ate breakfast, then set off to school on time. I, too, would go through the routine of readying myself for work and arriving to teach at 8 am. Now, I find getting out of bed before 7 quite difficult. This morning, though, I was up at 4:50, out the door and on the bike by 5:25. My friend and I rode 31 miles. The first 10 miles in fog. The last 21 miles in mist. We ended at a coffeehouse, where I indulged in tiger chai and an orange-cranberry scone. With the first revolution of the crank, my being sighed. I hadn't realized how much I missed being on the bike until the front tire bumped off the driveway onto the street, and I began the short climb up to the main road that would take me to meet my friend. A physical response -- li...

Yesterday, and even more so today, I have felt immense relief. Relief that my youngest graduated from high school though he nearly shot himself in the foot over one class. Relief that Funny Delightful Son kept his apartment in such wonderful shape during the last year, making moving then cleaning a quick endeavor. Relief that Lovely Beautiful Daughter texted with the message that her apartment has rented, so she will get her security deposit back though she is breaking her lease a month early. Relief that at least two members of my family are now aware of what is happening between me and my husband. And they found out because of me, the person who had agreed to keep things quiet, writing on this blog. A space that had gone silent for nearly two years. A space I decided to use to think through all the junk in my head. A space I returned to with the thought that no one would be reading it. So I wrote openly, and each time I wrote, I felt a working through happening. I'd not said ...

Yesterday I rode 71 miles, half straight into a cold, miserable wind. Granted, an 8 mph wind isn't much, but when the air is cold, the combination of cold and wind make for a difficult ride. Because I had already decided to ride at least 70 miles, I wasn't about to quit. Don't get me wrong; I really, really wanted to turn around and return to the comfort of my warm, comfortable home, preferably my cozy, most-likely-still-warm bed. Several times. At mile 14, I stopped to eat some trail mix and drink some water, thinking both would be a pick-me-up. At mile 20, I stopped to sit on a concrete bridge railing, thinking more trail mix and water along with some  contemplation of life would be the magic combination for keeping me going. While I was sitting there, staring down at the murky water below, a man in a gray pickup stopped and said, "Don't jump. You're not high enough." I laughed, saying if I were to jump, I'd only be wet and colder than I already wa...