OneGoodArm Swear Scale: Flatline
The title of this blog has occurred because I am currently watching the movie “The Departed”. If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favour and do it, it’s amazing and depressing and confronting. But totally worth a look. Plus every big name in the land is in it.
Anyhoo, Husband is off racing this weekend and I am not sure how I feel about it. Obviously I am happy he is racing, especially as he is FINALLY back on a 1000, that man mountain loves 600s but he is too damn big- still fast though annoyingly. But he has a new R1 and he is riding it and riding it FAST. Hello! It’s very sexy. Sorry TMI.
So I am happy he is racing, but how does it affect me?? Because you know, it’s all about me. Clearly! I feel weird. I wan to be there, be gridding up, but here I am at home with my stupid swinging ape arm that wont cooperate and I must contemplate the fact I may never grid up again.
That seems unfair and very very irritating.
So whilst at home today alone I fed the horses, raked up horse poo (so hard with one arm – it really is), burned a tonne of bark that i picked up with one arm, in a fire I made (we have about 2000 gums in our property and all of them dropped their collective bundle recently and dumped a million, possibly two million, threads of bark on the lawn) cleaned the trampoline by climbing aboard and sweeping the shitload of gum crap on it whilst the children jumped and complicated the task no end, helped (and very likely hindered) the farrier shoe the horses including the midget who twisted itself into a pretzel during his trim, hung out five loads of washing, washed four horse rugs – twice each because they were FILTHY, cleaned up the house as best i could, bathed the then filthy children and counted the minutes until I could start drinking.
Oh did I say that last part out loud. Whoops.
What do I do with these feelings? I don’t know. I feel pretty good otherwise, especially as I should not need another hospital visit this year, but it’s tough watching everyone ride out with all their arms working. I can only stand it for a short while.
Riding was always a bit stressful for me, there is a part of you – well me anyway – that always felt pressure to ride well, ride fast, ride better, but I was never happier than when I came in after a race. When you grid up and launch that bike, going around others who could not get their bike off the line as quickly as you, shooting up in the inside or around the outside, wherever there was a hole really, of the other riders, engines screaming, everyone tucked behind visors, then pop up and hard on the brakes, tip in and around you go……….
I would feel so elated when I would cross the finish line, no matter where I finished. It was the feeling of going fast, riding well, and doing something which in reality is VERY VERY hard. Nothing else in life makes you feel like that. That is why people do it.
Here I am ‘doing it’. Lol
Of course other things give you amazing special incredible feelings, but racing is a feeling all of it’s own. It’s the ultimate focussed escape. No wondering what’s for dinner as you lean your bike into turn 1 at 200kph. Although Husband apparently thinks about what adjustments he needs to make to everyone’s bike as he is cornering. Unfortunately we are not all cucumbers.
Anyway I wonder if it would be easier not to see it? Hear it? Feel it? Or maybe being there with it right in your face is the best way to ‘get over it’.
I am not yet armed with all the answers. Hopefully I will be at some point.