The night air had a warm, damp smell to it, which spread over the city and softened it to a quiet lull. A cold fringe reminiscent of winter licked at my face, as my light quietly cut through the darkness ahead of the bike. It was the first spring night of the year.
A winter was over where my lack of fear was augmented by stress, which opened to apathy. The consequences forced me to relearn fear, for sheer self-preservation. Like all fear, it was crippling. With the stress gone, and time to practice and rest, the fear is replaced with skill and confidence. Those will soon give way to love. Love once again of the motion and views. Of wind in my face and the sensation of my tires gliding through corners. Love of what I do and the desire to continue it: well.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
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