Where was I...?

Oh. That's right, I was over-sharing about my teeth and the slovenly way I was raised. Sorry for the bitter tears, but it's the price of admission to this dumb blog. 

Speaking of which, I should probably blog more. I was up at 3AM this morning, for no particular reason. Since retiring from polite society 6 months ago, my sleep has been whack. Sometimes I take a nap in the afternoon and wake up 8 hours later. Other days I'm up until 11, and then wide awake at 2AM. 

It's weird, because I'm probably under less stress these days than at any other time of my life. Srsly, y'all, things are good! Why my sleep is suddenly all haywire is a mystery, but I've learned it's pointless to fight it. I just get up. 

This morning I knocked out a few words on the book -- yes, I'm actually writing it -- and then hopped on my bike. It was about 4:30 by then, but still completely dark out. 

There's something liberating and slightly subversive about riding a bike in the wee hours. No one sane was out at that hour, no pedestrians, no cars, no other cyclists. But for me, it seemed the world was completely still. 

I rode through our little village square, usually so bustling, but silent now. It felt like I was on the set of a movie, after all the actors and film crew had gone for the night. By the time all was said and done, I'd wracked up more than 20 miles by dawn. 

This is remarkable because I am not, nor have I ever been, athletic. But a couple of years ago, as  I was (finally, finally) quitting the booze, and it was tough, and after a particularly harrowing and twitchy day, I rediscovered my bike, the one I still ride, sitting in the garage. 

I was in my own private hell of alcohol withdrawal and grief over the death of my parents and the end of my relationship, and something in me said, Just get on that bike and go.

I did. And remembered how much I loved riding a bicycle. It felt like flying. I was free. 

That was three years ago. Today I'm 35 pounds lighter and I don't miss the booze at all. No cravings. No struggle. Life is good. 

Anyway, this ain't no recovery blog and I'm not here to preach it. I'm just saying I spent too many years struggling with too many things. I've been able to make some changes, put some of those burdens down, and rest. 

I was to able quit struggling.