Anger

 This past couple months, especially the past week or so have been very stressful.  And I've been angry . . . very angry.  Restraint of tongue, pen and fists have kept me out of jail and the insane asylum.  Situations, circumstances, people, places and things out of my control have pushed me to the brink of setting up the Dragunov on top of the old bell tower and start picking people off one at a time.  I jest of course.  Of course.   I've been angry, but mostly at myself.  Serenity now!

Yesterday I got home and was steaming at nothing but at everything.  I didn't know what to do, so I got on the bike.  A day earlier I had ridden in plus 39 degree heat doing a loop of the park and ended up with a case of heat exhaustion.  I didn't think it was possible to even consider riding a day later, but I brain was telling me to go anyway.

Away I went, letting my pent up anger guide the bike over into the park.  I didn't have time to ride long, but I needed to ride.  I had to ride.  I was going to implode if I didn't do something.  I found myself a hill and began doing hill repeats as hard as I could.  I did them until my legs screamed and burned and my lungs felt like they were going to pop.  I stood, I mashed, I sat and spun out.  I did them until I wasn't angry anymore.  The Manx Missile couldn't have beaten me yesterday afternoon. . . . okay, he might but I would have gotten off the bike and pounded the snot out of him afterwards.  I was driven by anger and thank Jebus I had a place to leave it.  I left it on the hill.