Rain, Ice and the Touch of Death

It has been a "warm" day today. To the point of all of the ice and snow melting outside in buckets. The wet ice on the ground so bad, I couldn't get down my driveway; as soon as the back end of my car hung down the "steep" decline, the front end swung around and I was lodged crooked between the ivy-covered wall with about 10 inches of snow clinging to it and the ice-covered curb. No escape. A little battle with the snow shovel and a bit of salt and I was back in business.

Returning from the trip, I easily climbed the hill and parked 'er in the garage. There was still quite a bit of ice on the concrete pad at the top of the drive so I set up to take care of it all. Heck, it wasn't raining and the sun was out. About half way through, it began to pour. But I kept on breaking up the ice and shoveling it to the far corners of the concrete. I love working in the rain, with the water streaming down my face. The last time I remember being in a nice rain and not really caring was a few years ago while riding one of my favorite trails, Yankee Springs. I could taste the salt of hard, honest work. And my mind became clear and thoughtful. Something I lack after the clubbing I endured earlier in the week.

My company downsized and I was one of the unfortunate casualties that succumb to the will of the big machine, to the devastating blow of the Michigan economy. No, I'm wrong there. It wasn't the Michigan economy, it was the bottom line that is so not properly attended to and eventually leads to this sort of thing. While within the ranks, I saw so much money mis-spent I feel sick when I think that my salary was a fraction spent on a single executive office. I feel even sicker that the department I left is now hobbling along scratching their heads as they try and decipher some of the work I had to leave half-baked. All of the outside entities left hanging, wondering why I am not returning their calls. But then again, it serves the Angel of Death, the Destroyer of Lives right to have to suffer not only the physical consequences, but the mental ones as well. Unfortunately, the Christianity he enjoys allows him the comfort of forgiveness even though it is only in his own mind. As for me, the river flows strong and I am flattered at the support I garner from the many positive connections I have among my peers. It is with great appreciation to all of them that I stand proud and hopeful these days.

So why am I babbling about all of this? Well, I have a tendency to become intense and prone to self-suffering. Since the whole ordeal, I have lost a ton of sleep and a ton of weight. That is what stress does to you and the approach to life that a 50 cent box of mac and cheese, a little milk and a small bit of ham is good enough to feed two. Crazy! But I'm there.

After clearing the ice off of the drive and into the street, I put away all of the shovels. While in the garage, my single speed was just sitting there and whispering to me, "Just a little bit?" I sighed and threw a leg over the bike. I rolled out of the garage and down the drive. Then back up. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

It felt good to spin. To feel the revolutions of the crank. The resistance of each pedal stroke. The silky steering and the squishy grips. I took a deep breath and knew that if I just keep pedaling and going strong, this whole ordeal will be over before I know it. Just keep it at a comfortable pace and perceiver up the long climb.

Good things are already happening... and it hasn't even been a week since the touch of death destroyed my life.