It was short, but sweet. We were going for constant, controlled speed this time, not distance. Ten miles at a comfortable, consistent, ground-gobbling trot. Apollo really has hit his stride; he levitates, he glides like Alah ud Din on his magic carpet... I cannot help but imagine how Jasmine must have felt when flying through the sky, passing stars, outpacing comets, singing at the top of her lungs. I shout, I whistle, I hum, and cannot keep from singing when riding my lovely Magician. I must scare the bears away. (Maybe I should invest in jingle bells? Then maybe my cheeks wouldn't be so sore from puckering; steady stream of whistling while HE works, indeed!)
Ah, solipsism. Where would I be without you? On track, that is where I would be.
The best part about this ride... we did it in the dark! Oh yes, one hour and forty-five minutes in pitch-black backcountry, miles from the nearest Bud-light-guzzling-hillbilly, on a National Forest dirt track. It would have been a 15 mile workout if not for the imagined Ted Bundys running amok on the mountain, and a forgotten .22 caliber hand-gun. No matter. Every mile is a training mile, and the boys are in fine form, ready for the 32.2 miles of Limited Distance racing coming up in ten days.
Let my cup of excitement runneth over!
No comments:
Post a Comment