Land Between the Lakes, Tennessee to Grand Rivers, Kentucky
Miles: 52
Total so far: 1,418
Tennessee (state #4) in the rear-view mirror
We put Tennessee behind us today, and entered Kentucky, but we are affected by the beauty not only of the graceful Tennessee landscape, but also by the kind and outgoing people that have touched us in a unique way.
Yes, that sign is bolted on the correct way
The hills were significant, but having gone through them, we are that much more ready for what is to come because of them.
Speaking of hills, I set a new low speed record yesterday climbing some of the steepest challenges Tennessee offered us: 2.4 miles per hour. That’s enough to keep the bike upright and moving, but that gets very close to a stall-speed. We ran across another couple yesterday that were struggling on their trip from Memphis to Ohio. They seemed a little shocked when they asked if we walked many of the hills and we said no, we pedaled all of them. A person can walk at 2.4 miles per hour, but probably not while pushing a bike with gear that together weighs 75 pounds up an incline steep enough to prevent riding. Yes, we continued to ride — that’s how bikes work best.
A morning break with a touring cyclist staple - peanut butter and a tortillas
Our friend, the 13 year cicada. They were very quiet during the cold weather
I’ve stalled before. I used to run to maintain my fitness (a certain requirement of a state trooper). I was fairly faithful to a routine of running early in the morning three times a week regardless of weather. I found it maintained my health and had the side benefit of keeping my sanity and stress levels manageable.
When Carlie was killed, running was one of the tools I used to keep some balance in this “new normal” that was anything but normal for me.
Running. When I could. I suffered greatly from grief spasms. They are hard to describe, but I remember distinctly that at first, I could barely make it down the street, and I would have a thought of something meaningful to us – like how I would make her pancakes after my runs, wake her up and bring her downstairs – and then I would collapse in a heap. When the worst was past, I would walk putting just one foot in front of the other until it was a step. I would focus on my breathing, and I would find a little bit of success just in inhaling and exhaling, just in stepping — not around that pain, but through it. Grief is like that. You can go around it, but it will come back. I found that grief had to be leaned into, like some bitter incessant wind.
As time went on, the spasms became less frequent, a little less severe, and slowly — very, very slowly, I engaged the new normal, that was anything but normal for me. It will aways be that way. I am forever changed. That’s why I am moving forward. I’ll walk a hill if I have to, but I do not intend to stall.
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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Jessica Paige Muller
Jessie was killed when a 19 year old drunk driver ran a red light in Nashville, Tennessee on October 26, 2008 . We will live the rest of our lives with the memories of our precious Jessie. Her ear to ear smile, , her pealing laughter, her sheer love of life, family and friends, and her tender heart toward those less fortunate.
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In Memory of Warmer Summers 