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Fight for your Joy

I got on my bike last weekend. The wheels were covered in bird poop and the tires were flat.

My bike shorts are a little snug due to embracing the COVID carbs but I pretended I was a burrito and snuggled on in anyway.

For some reason the clips were missing from my bike shoes. Seriously. Where the hell are my bike clips?

So many reasons not to ride.

Tires were pumped with a small prayer that flatness was due to neglect and not a leak. Bird poop is stubborn but scrubs off with a little persistence. Missing clips? eh. I can do it.

My friend Ging and I rode for 30 miles. Not bad for the first ride of the season, even if it’s almost June. Heart rate rose, legs got tired, Longs Peak was on my horizon.

I am so happy. I thought.

Seriously, giddy, giggly happy. As turned home, I told myself, remember this joy.

Last Friday the pools opened up in Boulder for lap swim. I reserved lane 3 at 4:00. I love summer lap swim. The water is so clear, the sun shines on your back, all you hear is your breath. I cannon balled into the pool letting the water surround me; fill my toes, my fingers, my non-showered hair.

Quiet.

Inhale.

Exhale.

My God I am so happy.

It is small. Last year it would have been insignificant. But it these times, when it is so easy to go down a deep, dark rabbit hole, I must fight for one thing.

I must fight for my joy.

I must fight for my joy.

I am a ninja-warrior, joy detective, finding moments, breathing them in and searching for others like them.

I must fight like hell to keep my head above the chatter and to know when it sucks me down. I KNOW when I am better, my head is clear. When my head is clear, my interaction with you is better. And maybe that joy can spread.

Seriously. Find it. Write it down. Inhale it. Fight for it.

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