I was at the Go The Distance bike event, shortly after conquering the crappy feelings that glommed on to last year’s event. This year, I participated and biked 50 miles. It was literally my sixth ride on a road bike. Ever.
I was walking back to the car to get something for the boys, and I looked at the hundreds of people all around me.
My kids are here, but now that my family’s been fractured, I feel alone, a stranger in my own life.
I suppose if I were French and a philosopher, this would become the genesis of an existential novel. Instead, I’m an American and a Ranger and so I just said, “Hmmm,” and got on with it. Living, that is.
After all, Walker Percy is right. You can either just walk away, the pseudo-suicide, or keep at it. I love my kids; I’m keeping at it.