every week

ah crap ... another blathering taketh control.

- - -

Acceleration

That feeling ... the pack, the group, the herd ~ lulled after many a fruitless charge, taking breath in heaping grasps, hands in drops and heads not much higher ~ all waiting, hoping, praying for just a moment's rest.

You know that feeling ~


of attacking right then.


The speed differential - the gathering of energies, coiled and frenzied - unleashed as you shoot out and away from the others. Free. Alone.

The Break.

- - -

Sprints are an essential ingredient.

Yeah ... all the other work, too. The long intervals, the steady climbs, the drills ~ but the drama of acceleration is what brings me back, every time. The feel of the well-timed attack as the gravity of the pack is snapped, spent spinning off into chaotic, disparate shards.

Acceleration.

It is smooth, appearing effortless in it's grace. No grimaces, no strains ... instead, pure harmony of myriad muscles and metals parts. The gathering of body and machine by the practiced, dedicated decision of the mind.

Familiar to the sensations, a second skin ... the real you, alive and in control.


going fast.