Wednesday, August 15, 2007

A Hole in the Fabric of the Space/Time Continuum

First of all, I would like to express my gratitude for all the support from my friends, family and readership: thank you so much. You have no idea what your encouragement means to me.

Second of all, I would like to share with you some of the emotions I experienced whilst reading your comments on my last posting. The climax of the movie "Dodgeball" essentially sums up what I was going through when I read your words of wisdom and hope.

If you've never seen the movie, it plays out like this: Vince Vaughn has just quit the team before the championship round; he is sitting at the airport bar, crying in his beer, when Lance Armstrong walks up and asks why he's so glum. After getting the lowdown, Lance looks at Vince Vaughn and says: "You know, there were times when I thought about quitting. Like the time I was diagnosed with brain, lung and testicular cancer. But I made it through and won the Tour de France five times. You must have it bad." Accordingly, Vaughn is ashamed.

Here's why I felt this way: I cheated. That's right. There's no two ways around it. I cheated. Due to an alarm clock error, I slept in and lost my early start by nearly two and a half hours, which was quite discouraging. Fifteen miles down the track, a bizarre sensation came over me. As dawn's first rays began to paint the cliffs and mesas around me, I heard a humming, throbbing sound behind me, followed by a rush of air. Suddenly, before me, a great portal opened up.

Though I was only a few miles from where I started, with miles of desert unfurling before me, I could see many days ahead. I knew that if I entered the portal, I might regret it, but I could also see the future and I felt a cool breeze emanating from within it. I could see a man and a woman, smiling, inside; they offered me food and drink. I accepted and rolled my bike inside the portal: a white Chevy Equinox with Alabama tags.

I rode my bike 15 miles today. I rode in a car quite a few more than that. I'm ashamed. But it felt good. I should meet up with Mike Allen (remember him?) tomorrow at some point and have some company. And someone to discourage me from cheating again. Oh, well. I'm in Escalante, Utah. Que sera, sera.