I’m finally feeling better after riding through one of the nastiest colds that I’ve ever had. I’d say that I’m at about 95 percent recovered, but now I’m dealing with the rib that I reinjured during one of the dozens of coughing attacks that I had this last week. I broke one or two ribs during a fall on Cypress Trail a few months ago. At the time I had decided to not write about it, but in retrospect I should have included it in my story. Anyway, four or five nights ago I was up at around 1:30 am having a cough attack, when I started to feel pain in my right side. At first I thought that I’d begun to tear a muscle from the violent and repeated coughing, but then during the rest of the day I realized that I’d reinjured the same rib/s. There’s really no pain like that of a broken rib. Its pain is completely unique. Its dull most of the time, and then sharp when making the wrong move, and the wrong move never seem to be the same as the last. Of course there’s nothing that you can do about broken ribs, so I’ll need to ride through this too. It's all a part of the journey.
I finally met up with “S” when we were both going in the same direction. I first met her a couple of months ago and we talked about the similarities between our individual situations. At the time she was clearly upset and in the middle that first step wherein one is kind of shell shocked from their relationship. I remember those days all too well. The good news is that she’s sorted many things out and is wearing a smile on her face that’s the kind that one gets after they’ve been freed from the cloud that lives over your head while living with an active alcoholic. I’ve seen this now so many times. People that I met a year ago, and that are now free, look like different people. I know that I do. “S,” peace to you, and good luck on your own journey to recovery.
At the West Point Inn I found someone's, or something’s, trail mix on the picnic table. From a distance I thought that it was a gathering of rocks, but as you can see it’s an assortment of acorns, pistachios, and a token rock.
I often find water bottles that have been left behind by riders that have obviously experience some oxygen debt on the ride up to the Inn. I’d say that at least once a week I find them left behind, or even on the side of the trail after they’ve fallen out of rider’s water bottle cages. I usually stuff them into my jersey pocket, and then ride them down to the Blithedale gate, which is where most people start their rides. I place them on the gate posts. If they don’t disappear within a few days, I take them home and add them to the pile in my bike room. There must be a dozen of them now…
It was a beautiful day today, and I was feeling lazy after a late, late night of birthday festivities. I mentioned in yesterday’s posting that I feel very lucky to have such great friends and family, and today I reflected on that again. I’m relearning so many things right now. Most recently I’ve come to find other areas of my life that have been severely impacted by my alcoholic. I had no idea, but there it was staring me in the face. By the way, I no longer even "blame" my alcoholic, and instead I just acknowledge the facts. I’ve come a long a way, but I also don’t know what else is out there, so I’ll move forward with my eyes wide open and hopefully ready, and strong enough, to go on the whole ride. ;-) I think that I’m ready.
Distance: 17.46 miles Calories burned: 1,421 Time: 1:44:21 hours Elevation gain: 2,019 Garmin Connect ride details: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/18341027
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