Will E had a bus, a 1967 dark green Volkswagen bus with a safari pane windscreen and a couch in the back. That bus went everywhere, from rock climbing and poaching trout, to Provo and even up to Seattle (oh the stories I could tell!). If it broke down, Will Mcgyvered the thing with a bobby pin and duck tape (not kidding!) and we would be on our way again in no time flat. Will drove in the slow lane, with cars whizzing by constantly. Occasionally we would pass a much less fortunate sucker with an even slower car. Will would swerve into the fast lane to pass and had a private celebration by dancing in the driver's seat.
That's sort of how I feel today; like dancing in my own driver's seat. At five thirty, I ran my distance with a few short bursts of speed. While I was prepping eggs for breakfast, JE kissed me and asked if I was sweating. Sweat was dripping down my face and neck, I was soaked from my run.
Without changing, I rode to work. It was so cold! My clothes were soaked. But it was brilliant to be on my bike again. The trails have been cleared from the debris and sand that often clots them after storms. In some places, piles of sand had been scooped off the trail and lined the path.
A coworker asked how my ride was this morning. My ride is a way to clear my head, put all my worries aside, see the beauty around me, talk to Heaven. She said it was good that I have that, I say it's good to know where to go to find it.
After work, we swam. I lost track of my laps, somewhere in the realm of 15-20 (600-800 yards). Like I said, I'm dancing in my seat! (and ready for some serious sleep!)
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