Sundays Race

There was a race Sunday. Right here in my back yard!

Well, not actually in my back yard. The Tahoe Donner home owners association would never allow such things.

For me, the race went like this: I got out of bed just like I always do before a race. I drank some coffee and ate some breakfast, again just like all the other races. I did a quick prep of my bike, came back inside and packed my gearbag. This is where the similarities stop as the racer path of life zigged one way as I zagged in the other direction.

Right about the time of registration I had my feet up on my desk and was watching motocross. About the time where I would've been needing to get warmed up for the race, I headed out my front door and took the dog for a walk. At 10:00 the race started. Instead of turning myself "inside out" trying to be in the first group going into the woods, I was lazily loading bikes in the car. At the theoretical halfway point of the race i had just arrived at a distant trailhead with Megan for a ride. We rode for quite a while. Long enough, in fact, to miss the theoretical awards ceremony of the race.

We came back to the house and as I cracked a beer the theoretical racer path of life merged back together with the other choices and options we all make on our day to day navigation through the road map of life.

Not racing never felt better.