The joy is in the journey

Sprinting out the door and actually making it up to our viewpoint before sunrise is getting harder and harder. Longer days... I love them but I shall miss most sunrises when they are too early for this sluggish coffee hound.

Based on our early morning snow bike rides together, I have an impression that K has made a leap in her recovery from the long bone infection ordeal. For a while, she seemed like a shadow of her usual self. For the past few days, she's been scrambling among boulders, sprinting, and playing with an abandon that shouts that the ordeal is history.

One thing that remains is that she gained lots of gray in chocolate fur. I did too.

Although she has a predilection for action now, she still likes to stop and soak up the sun.

Out on the trails, she lives in the moment - running hard, sniffing carefully, and rolling in the snow. When we're in the forest, we generally have no destination. We are simply enjoying being in nature together. The joy is in the journey and not in a goal.

Although sometimes it might look like I'm pedaling hard to get someplace fast, that's usually not the case. In my dreams, I'd love to race bikes again someday. My bike racing days came to an abrupt halt when I ruptured a disc during a race in my early twenties. So, I know that a return to racing will never happen - my spine precludes it.

Now, I read about ultra-long distance snow bike races (like the Iditarod going on now) and mountain bike races, and I get these wild ideas that I should throw common sense to the wind and compete again. But then I remember - I'd be risking everything if I raced because I'm incapable of doing anything halfway - especially in a competitive atmosphere. I can't risk my precious early morning rides with K and my sunset hikes with the Duo. No way. I'll simply enjoy what I can do, here and now.

Now, I ride at a pace that lets me notice the small bits of beauty, like these purple catkins on a small tree growing next to a frozen creek.

One of my recent sunset hikes with the Duo featured spectacular skies. The sun dipped below the mountains, setting the blowing snow ablaze.

Snow billowing off nearby peaks glowed like gold dust.

Then, our world turned purple - the sky, the snow, and even the grass.

After the purple, gold took over. I've walked this trail a thousand times but it's never looked golden like this in the past.

The show ended as the cloud bank over my head caught fire against the eggshell blue sky.

What did those skies whisper to me? Chase your dreams but within reason. Figure out what you love and hold onto it. This message feels especially poignant these days as I'm scared by my spine's rebellion and by the frown that I saw on my PT's face as she examined me. "Not good" - her expressive face told me. So, I'll keep doing what I love and realizing how tenuous life is. Each day is worth savoring. K and R remind me of that every single day.

Better to live fully with some risk than to let life pass by.

PS Your comments about our pepper spray incident left me laughing out loud! Thanks for the grins. We're still battling the spray and residue. All windows and doors are open and fans are running - with a 30 degree temperature outside (and inside)!