Each day I am stronger, I feel it in my heart.
But when we go out to ride with the group, it is all I can do to hold a wheel ( stay close enough to the person ahead of you to draft and gain efficiency from reduced wind resistance ). It is almost 3 months after the thyroid surgery, and one month after the radiation, it just seems I should be stronger. But either way, the dog still fights on.
Today we headed out toward Fermi Labs, that dichotomy of a park where on top you see fisherman, buffalo in the field and pass bogs where frogs croak a symphony that starts softly as we approach, rises to an ear shattering crescendo, and then fades gently out of range as we cruise on. Underneath this wood and field hides a giant cyclotron, where physicists try to know the hand of God. We merely fight the wind which shifts half way to reward us with a headwind out and back.
Thirty two miles at the end, and again I am so spent, that my story falls into a few fragmented memories.
The bogs where the invisible frogs croak like a thousand birds singing. Heather giving me a pull when I was floundering
Auburn hair shining in the wind
The joy of movement
And the glass of ice water at the end.