Suddenly the gust of wind rocked my bike. I had been riding into the wind and holding my own pretty well, but this wind turned up the tempo a notch. Barely moving, hunkered down, getting in a better gear, I just hoped I would not be blown over. After being sick for a couple days, I wasn't at a hundred percent, I thought. And this was my first bike ride since the food poisoning sickness. Welcome back, huh?
In the next moment I found myself standing up, facing the gusting wind head on, stepping hard on the pedals, grinding it out. There was a sort of snarl on my lips that would have revealed gritted teeth. I was standing up into the wind, standing up to the wind, standing up to all inside me and without me that would make me fearfully hunker down to difficult moments in life. I was back.
Back at the truck, the snarl was gone, replaced by a grin. I was at peace. This day, I had faced the wind and held my own. This day, I had faced myself and liked what I saw.
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