A Meditation on Perseverance,
Frost Bite,
and Rebirth
...Has it been a month, already?
Don't get me wrong; I've certainly felt every excruciating minute in the bitter cold as we crawl our way through the first set of states, with every appendage and digit attached to my body cursing me in my blind idiocy. Frostbite? Quite possibly, I coo to myself as I progressively lose sensation in my hands while I wring the life out of the throttle, scanning the road sides for a safe haven in the form of a gas station or accommodating restaurant chain. Nothing.
At this point my ice fused toes have written me onto their shit list.
Pay them no mind.
Screw your better judgement.
Sure enough, a Shell station pokes its head up over the horizon, its vibrant yellow shell tantalizing in its promise of deliciously stale and scalding hot coffee and curious patrons questioning our sanity. We arrive at the building, hitching up our 49cc ponies and head on in dressed like a couple of unemployed stormtroopers. We dance through the routine: unstrap helmets, toss chapped smiles at the customers and owners, roll out the practiced and well worn speech of our cause, until we finally cower next to the nearest heater as we rub the circulation back into our white washed skin. And all the while as I do this... I chuckle.
Why?
Because it's just not sane.
It goes against my self preserving grain.
Because I sense myself strengthening in spirit and in fortitude.
Fortitude that is intoxicating.
Intoxicating in its blunt ignorance.
Ignorance that is pure bliss.
I manage to wiggle my thawed out toes. Thank. God.
"Ready?"
Dan hoists his burden from the floor and onto his back, once again. I stamp my feet and pump out my chest.
"Let's do it, bud."
My body groans in exasperated submission. I'm beaming like an idiot.
Here's a short video to go along side this post. A little lengthy, so sorry about that!
No comments:
Post a Comment