|Feeling everything at the 2010 Arrowhead 135|
It's exciting. It makes me feel vibrant and alive and scared. It's a challenge that will require immediacy but that will involve it by default - no need for me to cultivate an awareness of the moment in order to be fully present. Instead, the moment(s) will impress themselves on me full force, demanding to be witnessed. I will experience my entire body - my skin, by bowels, my muscles. I will feel connective tissue and be aware of damage on a cellular level as the cold bites my fingertips when dexterity demands that i remove my gloves. I will communicate sympathetically with my alveoli when the 250 micron diameter tubes are stretched to their breaking point - air molecules waking from their lethargic midwinter slumber to ricochet energetically off their thin walls. I will respond to minute changes in force and acceleration automatically - without thinking about coefficients of friction - thousands of times as i careen down down and struggle up miles of snow covered trails.
I will listen to my heart, my lungs. I will have long conversations with my central governor and alternate between sweet talking and bullying her into letting me have my way. And after everything is said, I will - at least for a couple of hours in the middle of the night - let go of it all and just pedal mindlessly with little conscious awareness of anything, or memory recorded. It's going to be awesome.