Page 108

Book of 2016

- Page 108 -

He opens the blind to his room and his met with the sun.  He over slept a little bit, but that is OK, all he has to do today is ride his bike.  Anything else he does is icing on the cake.  He stares down and looks the pool from his window, no one is there now, however, when he gets back it will be at capacity and then some.  That is Ok, he won't want or need a chair, all he will want is to soak water which the pool holds.  He wonders and not for the first time since he has been here can that really be a real view?  The ocean water in the distance is almost as clear as the pool water and it goes all the way to horizon.  Where is meets a slightly different shade of blue.  There are no clouds in the sky.  He has been lucky so fair.  This island normally has some clouds and some rain.  However in the week he has been here he has been lucky to have none at all.  

He turns from the picturesque view and reaches for his bike shorts. He steps into them, right foot, then left foot.  Even after all he has been through, and all he has accomplished he still puts his pants on one leg at a time.  He smiles at this.  Then smiles fades though when he sees the black and white road racer that he lugged over here from the mainland.  He wonders and not for the first time why did he bring it.  He doesn't have to really ask the question he knows.  The bike has become his life lately and he didn't want to miss out on his higher mileage rides just because club and vacation came a calling. Plus, although he isn't looking forward to the ass raping the bike will give him over the next 65 miles he is hooked on the feeling of accomplishment that he gets when he gets off of it at the end of a long ride.  He never feels quite as accomplished as he does when he is pumping his legs like a piston on that bike, and his face is drenched in a shower sweat.  Oh sometimes he wishes he'd never started to ride again, but those moments usually come just before its time to go up hill or the rare occasion you are in paradise and all you want to do is drift in the lazy river, drink boat drinks at the bar, and forget it all.  However, he knows he can't forget it all. There is a drive in him and he just can't put it on hold.  He has been there, and done that.  Twenty years he put things on hold.  For twenty years there was always going to be another new day tomorrow.He sits on the bed and he pulls his shark socks on.  the socks he muses really are quite clever.  It is mostly a grey sock with a black outline of the shark and its teeth. He then pulls each shoe on with relative ease.  He still hates the fact he has to wear mountain biking shoes, but all the weight loss in the world won't change his Fred Flintstones feet.  The old joke plays in his head you know what they say about guys will big feet. They have to buy big shoes... bada dum chew goes the drums. 

He grabs his cycling jersey and heads into the bathroom to grab a rubber band.  He stops suddenly and stairs.  It takes him a minute to register what he is seeing.  Still even now, it takes second to recognize the man he has become. The man that lived in imprisoned under an ocean of fat.  He takes a moment to appreciate how far he has come.  How he looks is beyond his wildest dreams.  As he pulls his sun kissed hair back into a pony tail.  He says to himself and not for the first time man I sure do look silly without any face hair, however, he is a firm believer that on the island the entire body should get to enjoy the sun, and rejuvenate in its glory, he rubs his face and he almost hates how smooth it is.  Its not really him but in away it is him.  Again like the body hidden under the fat, he hid this face under a beard.  Ashamed to show it.  His shoulders are broad and as much as he would like to have a six pack, the gods might be with him, but they aren't granting miracles.  Its a body he can be proud of.  It is a vision he say a long time ago, sitting on his old couch at this old home and now it is here in front of him.  

He pulls the baby blue and and grey jersey on.  He cut the sleeves off himself.  If he is going to ride in Hawaii, damn it he is going to get some sun on his shoulders while riding.  He stops and and closes his eyes and rolls his head around on his neck.  He is stretching it ever so lightly.  However, stands there and he breaths in slowly through his nose.  He lets the air run down his throat and into his stomach.  He lets it out slow.  He repeats this over and over and then over and again.  He loses himself in the breath.  It has taken years to take control of his mind, but he has started too.  He has gained focus.  

He sees himself on the bike.  He sees himself cranking a steady cadence from start to finish.  He sees himself peddling both up hill and down.  His body has become a machine.  His thick muscular legs will carry him there and back.  He sees all this.  He sees a great ride ahead of him.  He no longer even questions why the bike is here or why is he going out.  He just accepts it.  It is here and he is here and going out because a long time ago he choose life.  He choose to be great and push himself as far as he could go and that is just what he will do.