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8.19.2019

Solar rv cycling log August 18. how can it be this hard? How can it be this easy?


If James finds time to put up yesterday's post .... When if you read it and then read this one you get to laugh, be angry, be frustrated, see that James is a fool…. 

 Yesterday James thought that he had this mastered.
Pretty much. The 1st several hours this morning, Objective Li an extremely difficult ride, downhill, shoulders too narrow, rumble strips that destroy the vehicle, logs and other refuse strewing the road from the logging trucks… mostly downhill… But for the 1st several hours James was lost. His body could find none of the magic of the day before period .... And yet, the day before had started in the magic and ended in the magic. What is going on? 

 Item. A extended period of Poetry Teases James' body into thinking that finding the poetry, writing the poetry, is easy. And probably it is never easy in this vehicle. When the poetry is in place James and the vehicle are functioning at possibly an extremely high level of coordination. It seems unlikely this is not the case, although at the time it just feels like poetry. It just feels so easy. But it may be that a countless number of errors are being avoided unknowingly. 

With all that , and even with all the important to remember lessons Of each passed log, a discovery of today may be a tremendous help.

What discovery?

Expect nothing but disaster, James, until you find that you can deliver even the smallest felt pressure from your size ubat 900-pound objects, circular, underneath them. Nothing but disaster until stroke after stroke tiny bit of pressure going from the underside of your thighs to that 900-pound circular objects.

Item. James, your only job, your only job, your only job, everything else being distractions, is to deliver that tiniest of weight from the underside of your thighs to that 900 sound circular object. If you can do that, anything and everything else might follow.

Items. Note to James. There has never been a time that you have executed the items above and felt it was a mistake and there was something better to do.

Item. The above seems to be against every Instinct of the leg. Why is this? No idea. But with the slightest lapse in attention every instinct of the legs is looking to jump in and help, destroying all power, all peace, call poetry, and delivering crushing frustration. They are monsters. This would really be easy if those instincts would just go away. There have been times In the last year or 2 at least when James has thought with great Gladness and envy at the idea of his lower legs being amputated. Seriously. Looking with envy at the runners that run with a springy prosthetic. 

Item. None of this is said by way of complaint experienced or implied. No. It is fucking frustrating as hell. And even if James is wrong in the following it is fine. But James will be amazed if he is not approaching Sustained power and effortless Nas in days and weeks ahead based on all these slow difficult learnings. .... .... 

Item. Among the huge difficulties regarding a prior day or period of success probably is that Establishing that relationship where the body feels and accepts that its job, the only job of the body, the only, only, only, only job of the body is to deliver even a pound of felt pressure to the underside of the thighs on that 900 pound object, usually if not always that relationship quickly yields extraordinary fruit way beyond The experience of  even a pound of pressure every thrust. And the next morning the body expects that can achieve that right away and it really becomes frantic when it cannot. And it does not. 

James, please, have mercy on yourself. Start tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that with the singular goal of feeling at least a pound of pressure on the underside of the thigh as it adds pressure, energy, to that 900 pound circular object. Please James, do it. 

Item. And James, never expect anything more than that period be delighted if you can do that stroke after stroke. If anything more is to happen…. 

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