So, I ride. I have a pretty sweet loop here at work - 9 miles; more than half of it single track and some of that quite technical; three climbs of over 100' each and one of those a solid 15% grade on packed gravel with rubber water barriers; three mud sections, one of which never dries; and a host of short technical rocky/rooty sections. I've been hitting it hard. I rode it 4 days this week. In the past month I've severely banged up my knee, snapped a derailleur, broken two chains, flatted three times, and I fear my rear wheel is on a truing downward spiral - I've retrued it three times in the past month and it keeps drifting out (did I mention the jagged rocky sections and 11 stone wall crossings?). These are the problems I _want_ to have.
Still, everytime I read or listen to the news, the sense of impending doom is almost overwhelming. On things that matter, there are really no bright spots. Oh sure, I could point to the facts that:
* I _am_ still employed ( though an extremely reliable source here has warned of cutbacks in january),
* My daughter still seems to appreciate my existence ( though she is still only just entering her teen years),
* My apartment building is fully rented by people who have been making their rent payments since may (though that could change at _any_ time).
Yes, I'm looking at the glass as half-empty, with a leak that I can't find. Can you blame me, or anyone, for that matter? Of course I'm quite fortunate. I know that. I don't need anyone to remind me of it. But when you see the world around you on the verge of imminent collapse, it's extremely hard to remain optimistic and maintain a sense of well-being and satisfaction unless you have resources beyond what are generally available to the working-class schmucks like me. So, I will leave you off from this depressing anti-zen message with a reason to live:
Liz Hatch makes me want to live.