Sometimes there isn’t an easy answer.
Why haven’t there been any postings in the past couple weeks? Where are the day to day adventures recorded for the pleasure of a frustrated audience who regularly let me know of their wish to read more?
I am not offering an excuse, only a partial explanation. Please understand that there may be some details here that are difficult to explain, and challenging to open about in this psuedo anonymous but completely accessible medium. While some people are willing to spill each and every thought to the void that is cyberspace, I usually avoid such displays.
Right now I will atempt to explain:
I am exhausted. Exhausted beyond my experience. When I arrived in Seattle I hoped the days of rest and relaxation would reinvigorate my spirit and heal my right leg, tired muscles and weary spirit. I was wrong. That’s not to say I didn’t try to relax, but my legs never actually relaxed and my mind swirled with work and other obligations I needed to take care of while sitting for a week. Imagine a vacation that is so packed with activities that when you’re done you feel like you need another vacation. Even though my days were not so incredibly packed, that’s how I feel, looking back.
Part of the tiredness came with the weight of both the accomplishment of riding across the country on a bicycle, but also the inability to fully celebrate a completion of my journey. I was only 2/3 done. What’s more, everyone kept saying I was almost there and the rest of the way is downhill. But I was only 2/3 done. From the outside, I imagine it does seem short in comparison to the rest of my ride of 3600 miles, but it’s still a long way off. It’s 1800 more miles. On a bicycle. On tired, injured legs. On a weary soul and mind.
So I left Seattle with a still bum leg, a body 10 pounds heavier from stuffing food down as often as I could, and a heavy heart from the random killing of a woman related to a wonderful performer who happened to be in Seattle as well.
My thoughts weighed heavy and my legs responded in kind. The few times I caught my reflection I did not recognize the image, nor the pictures I was taking. The exhaustion is overwhelming, leading to tears and wails and the desire to quit. I want to stop, stick out my thumb and hitch to a bus stop. After all, I made it to the coast, isn’t that enough?
All I can imagine is the completing this trip and falling into the arms of my love, hugging my puppy and sleeping for a week. I also pray my legs will eventually relax so I can walk without pain and sleep for more then 2 hours without waking. Lastly, I hope that time will bring matching color to the skin on my body, because these tan lines are simply ridiculous.
The only comparison I believe adequately describes my sense of exhaustion is that similar to a new mother, or at least from what I’ve read, seen and been told (side note; big welcome to Eden Bryce Rioseco, born yesterday to Taryn and Eddy in San Francisco). The actions of the day are a daze, with time traveling and hours passing with little relation to normal days. Yet there is an underlying joy that seems forgotten by the weight of the moment.
But looking towards the end of the trip hinders all progress. Every thought of the future slows the present, as does each thought of the past. There was a wonderful woman who touched my heart and spirit years ago in college, her name one of reverence and honor in my heart and mind: Victoria. Not my wife, but this other Victoria enters my mind each day. Today, along with my Victoria’s voice, I meditated in the Redwoods and reclaimed some composure and awareness of the present. The now.
I saw the place where I was, the beauty of the ancient trees and landscape while the images of my destination faded into the background. No longer was there a light at the end of the tunnel, just simply an idea of a place to finish my ride. For now, I ride 1 mile at a time. No more, no less.
So now, 4300 miles into the trip, I can say my spirits are lifting, and therefore I should have little reason to not update this blog. Please forgive a frightfully weary rider, lonely and exhausted from the long road traveled. With this in mind, I can’t express how much I appreciate the emails, facebook and twitter messages. These little, quick toss away comments feed my ride beyond measure. Naturally, donations do as well. But the tiniest gestures from afar do astounding things for the leaded legs. Thank you.
2 years ago