Life takes turns. Merciless, unpredictable, poorly banked and unpaved turns. Today I wasn’t running on auto-pilot, but attempting to land a burning bomber with no landing gear on an aircraft carrier.
My car, which was having the fuel tank replaced, due to a voluntary recall, was scheduled to be ready by 9am this morning. After work, I would be picked up, and then taken to the dealership, wherein I would then drive to my swim workout.
The car is eleven years old, and corroded so extensively, the dealer claimed that it needed spare parts, because the new tank could not be safely re-mounted. I am Jack’s quiet, unyielding anger.
Then my father reminded me, that I had completely forgotten Mother’s day over a week ago. This is when I turn my head, absolutely demoralized, and walk to the dog house. It hurts.
So I get home, and go for a ride on my bike with only 85 PSI in the rear tire, because my pump is in my car in the dealership – more fun.
I really tried hard to ride and concentrate, but just couldn’t. My mom, my car, my life, all strangling my legs to move fluidly, and toe-drag. Then I found Great Hill.
Great Hill is a long, slow grade of private residents, of 55 years and older. So I begin to climb. Somewhere between the base and the summit, I realized that my training wasn’t sound. It wasn’t balanced with life.
So tonight, I’m calling my Mom, and we’re going out to dinner at her favorite restaurant, and God willing, my car will be reading by 9am again, tomorrow.
