It's been a long week, and I just wanted to sneak out for a bit before the fun but tiring whirlwind day started. So I checked the radar just to be sure I could fit it in before the storms that pretty much cancelled the Michigan game yesterday hit us. I thought I'd be okay, but I just wanted to be sure.
It said I had a small window of opportunity, but I'd need to be back by 9am. That wasn't really what I wanted to see. It was already 7:42. I pondered. I himmed. I hawwed.
I got out and quickly pumped up the tires and put my cell phone in a baggie and told Matt, "I may be calling you from the side of the road, k? bye" and as I stood in the driveway, I heard the rolls of thunder.
Do I go?
A guy walking his dog looked at me like I was nuts and I told him, "I'm thinking about heading out...what do you think?" He told me he saw the radar so I might be able to do "maybe six quick miles." (I was thinking maybe more like 25 quick miles, but I kept my mouth shut.) So I told him I was just going to do it, and I rolled out.
I headed west, because, you know, when a storm's coming in from the west that's the smartest thing to do.
The sky was dark and I was sure that I was going to get absolutely nailed. I put my head down, got aero, and was determined to make it a good solid ride. If I'm going to get soaked and this is going to be nuts, then I'd better damn well make it count.
This week school started, which is busy and fun and emotionally draining and exciting and overwhelming and absolutely EXHAUSTING all at the same time. Our family went back to school this week.
And our family went back to chemo this week, too.
Another school year; another September battle. This time we know a bit more of what we're up against at least. And the will to fight never ceases to amaze me.
I rode into that storm and pushed hard on those pedals. I got out some much-needed aggression. Sometimes, even though it isn't ideal, you just have to put on the obnoxious fluorescent orange jersey, put your head down, and send yourself headfirst into a storm.
But you know the craziest thing?
The heavens never opened up. The farther I rode west, the brighter the sky got. And even now it gets me a bit choked up. I think it was someone trying to tell me something.
As bad as things may look, if you soldier on through, the sun just might come out.
And then, it's just another beautiful morning.