I live two different lives.
but for brevity's sake, in this soliloquy I'll just stick to two: biking life, and non-biking life. they exist on two different planes, with a gradual transition back and forth. I waken each morning in regular-life, get ready for my ride, and head out the door to transition phase. this can take anywhere from five to twenty minutes, depending on the grade of the streets on my route. (I'm laughing as I type this.) steep uphill grade, I need the maximum time; slight grades cut my time down to about ten or twelve minutes; and flat or downhill streets get me to my other life within three or four minutes.
this morning I rode to a foreign land: city creek canyon. mid-range transition time, maximum biking-life experience. it stormed last night, and the road up the canyon was still dark with moisture. it was olfactory heaven, with every plant and bush and tree sending out its fragrant message. the road is narrow and winding around curve after curve, lifting steeply upward and wrapping around a bend to a gently climbing section, then surprising you with a brief flat before again climbing up, and up.
weeping rock memorial grotto is at the top: I love that name. just to visualize a weeping rock thrills my heart and soul. and grotto, what a beautiful word, stolen from the italian and given to me as a gift when I reach the end of the canyon climb.
back home, I am now clean and coffeed, and having difficulty releasing biking-life because I am still writing about it. my other life calls, wonderful but oh so different, and I will return to biking-life in my mind as needed today. my physician-self has written me a mental health PRN prescription: return mentally to weeping rock, as needed.
biking life, non-biking life.
and a little mental overlap.