Red Days

I want to find this spot. Until then I hope to fill in the holes that Winter digs. The air is a little bit fresher, less biting as I step out in to the morning chill. I smile inside as the air wakes me a bit more, the first pedal stroke opens the lungs and pushes home the point that I'm not there. The espresso taste barely

lingering as the embrocation dominates my frozen nose wafting up through my jersey and jacket.

Going without is key this time of year, if the kms aren't getting put away neither should the extra helping. Skeptical of every bite and every pedal stroke and every push on the skis. My balance sheet teeters into the black most days making me long for the red days. The red makes me feel like an athlete, I'm not, but at least I feel like one. Red days when you go to bed not full, but tired and happy that you did the work that day. Crisp sore muscles and sleep that is there before you even lay down. My own institutional living, Having spent about 15 years getting to this place has left me with a pretty good idea of how things need to be, change is ok, maybe sometimes it's even good. A little bit of quiet time adds the opportunity for the red days. You know when you have one. You can't lie to yourself, it only makes you slow(er). Get your shit together, put in the time, no substitutes, that would be cheating. No news, only rehashing what worked last year. Do you need that doughnut? What about the extra splash cream in your coffee? Ask the questions because in July that climb is going to be longer you think it is, the shit in your legs isn't there by accident.