Push It Along

Yesterday was one of those perfect Fall days -- bright blue sky, sunshine, trees beginning to turn, warm but also cool at the same time. When I got home from the trip up north, I was feeling like I needed to move more -- so I went to yoga, and then I decided to throw my mountain bike on the bike rack and drive out to Quarry Ridge to do a little riding.

I'd thought of doing this at a couple of other points in the summer, but I just couldn't face it -- it was one of the places where I knew the presence of my ex would be looming large. And I wasn't wrong about that.

But that's not all that was out there for me to experience. After I arrived, I was getting my stuff together when I realized that I'd forgotten my shoes. I was wearing flip-flops -- not ideal footwear for this activity. A fellow mountain biker pulled into the parking spot next to me, and I told him about my predicament. "Oh shit," he said with lots of knowing sympathy. "What size shoe do you wear?"

And then, this perfect stranger offered me his tennis shoes. I didn't accept the offer -- after all, my feet are far too dainty to fit in a man's shoes (and I'm far too concerned with appearances to wear a big old pair of men's running shoes even if they would've protected my feet). But just the fact that he offered spoke to part of the reason I'd driven out there: not only is mountain biking a great workout and a way to have fun in the woods, but its people are generally lovely human beings who look out for their kind.

After I refused the shoes, my new friend decided he'd at least stay with me to make sure I got up the worst part of it without hurting myself, and I was glad to have the company. After it became clear that I was going to do ok despite my ill-advised footwear, he said: "Ok -- I think I'm going to go ahead and push it a little more -- have fun!" and then rode on ahead.

Alone in the quarry, tears burst out of me like a pipe that had been temporarily plugged and then blown wide open. I tried to just be with it, but I wished like hell I could just be done with this heartbreak already, and as I rode, I heard the words to this song:

As we start our travels, things they will unravel.
"Que sera sera", for this unit is like gravel.
Won't be gone for long, listen to the song.
If you can't pull it, all ya gotta do is

Push it along, push it along.
Push it along, yeah, push it along

Yep, Tribe, I reckon you're right. There doesn't seem to be any pulling this grief out of me. All I can do, and all I did do as I continued to cry and climb, was:

Push it along, push it along.
Push it along, yeah, push it along

And even that I can only really seem to do by showing up to the pain rather than trying to escape it -- I can't push it along any faster than it is willing or able to go...