Life marches onward. A winter storm hit the Wasatch last night, dropping more snow. I stayed warm and snug in bed. I rode the trainer last night, the first time since…ever? And does it even matter? It was as mundane as it ever is. But the visions flashing through my mind were a refreshing diversion to the supreme uniformity of the concrete walls surrounding me. Color in a realm of only cold gray.
I feel as though time is standing still. At least momentarily. Like the long, slow ascent of a roller coaster. Cars of people full of anticipation and nervous anxiety, focused only that moment where the stomach will explode through the throat as the coaster plunges earthward.
And then, it’s over. Done.
After feeling the wearisome effects of several early mornings my body is starting to recover. And once again the anxious energy of the coming summer, the coming races, the coming pain and satisfaction of competition is filling the void that the cold and dark of winter opened – despite how wonderful the ski touring has been.