Sunday, July 28, 2019

Pythia'd In My Yoga Pants

Okay, back again. I am going to try to get back in the habit of posting every day, no matter how short on words or ideas I might be. It is images that I run out of most often. 

I did my ride yesterday, many miles, though just short of 50. Nowhere near a mile in vertical climbing, probably only about 1700 feet. I used an app on the phone designed to gather this info, but on the second half of the ride I got a network error message so I turned wifi off, forgetting that it is required for the app to work. I know the ride well, the distances and the elevation differentials, from having ridden up and down the valley to these exact spots in the past. I am happy with having done something close to what I set out to do. I have been feeling sedentary lately, even as I have been more active. I was going to start telling people I was anemic, to explain my perpetual lethargy. 

I am desperately trying to cycle to a faraway place in my mind where I won't feel guilty for buying a new bike. I currently have three of them but would be willing to give up one right away if I get a new one (swapping out those whitewall tires), and possibly another if the new one satisfies my conceptual and physical wants. I struggle with getting rid of things, always telling myself that past use will one day mean future use. I am constantly trying to restore the republic of my memories. If the future is anything like my memories of the past then it is no wonder why I am filled with such tidal anxieties. 

Okay, I am going to the gym soon. The gym is a strange place where memories of what once was collide with the knowledge of what will become, while the struggles of the present moment are all that one can see in the mirror's reflection. My gym is called The Oracle of Deltoids.